


The process of becoming tamed

by melian225



Series: How to tame a Marauder [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Coming of Age, Community: HPFT, Eventual Romance, F/M, First War with Voldemort, Humor, Marauders Friendship, Marauders' Era, Slow Burn, Teen Romance, Wizarding Wars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-09-20 14:58:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 30
Words: 81,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9497108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melian225/pseuds/melian225
Summary: A series of one-shots based around How to tame a Marauder, featuring deleted scenes, missing moments and different POVs.Thanks to mizzxpearl, DarkRose and NGseries from the old HPFF, who helped come up with the story title.





	1. An apology

**Author's Note:**

> This is a series of one-shots that complement my other fic, _How to tame a Marauder_ , showing different scenes that were either deleted from the main narrative, take place outside the main narrative (ie, Laura wasn’t there for them), or are simply from the point of view of another character. If you’ve not read HTM then these probably won’t make a lot of sense; if you have, I hope they illuminate different parts of the story for you. 
> 
> I’m putting them down in chronological order, not the order in which I wrote them (the first one I wrote is set in August 1995), and some of them are first person and some are third person, depending on how I thought it flowed best. (As an aside, if it’s first person then I’ll be putting who that person is in the chapter title. It’s only fair, I think.) And I should probably warn you that there won’t be anywhere near the sort of chapter length consistency that HTM had – I think they range from about 600 words to over 6000 – but hopefully that won’t matter too much. Anyway, here’s the first one; it's not fantastic, but it's okay and hopefully it's readable …

**June 1976 – OWL exams**

“Hey, Padfoot, what’s the definition of a Switching Spell again?” Peter’s voice cut through the quiet of the common room.

Not in the mood for helping Peter with his revision, Sirius ignored him instead, hoping his friend would look to someone else to lend a hand. He’d had a troubling day in some ways and wanted to be left alone.

James, of course, decided to state the obvious and exacerbate his discomfort. “Don’t talk to him,” he said, chuckling as he read a Quidditch magazine while Remus and Peter tried to study for the following day’s Transfiguration exam. “He still hasn’t gotten over being publicly humiliated this morning by a Cauldwell.”

“Yeah, thanks for bringing that up, Prongs,” Sirius muttered sarcastically, not looking up from the sketch of a Muggle motorcycle he was working on. “I really wanted to relive that particular moment.”

“You can count yourself lucky, though,” Peter said thoughtfully, putting his quill down. “She never got her wand out. Just think what you might have looked like if she’d hexed you.”

James laughed. “Yeah, remember when the older one turned her roommate into a stoat? That was hilarious.”

“I can just see you as a stoat, Padfoot,” Peter said a little nervously, looking around at James for approval before continuing. James grinned and Peter went on, clearly encouraged. “You’d have to be stoat royalty, of course, but it could work.”

“Or she could have shrunk you, the older one did that to someone too at one point I think,” James added, winking at Peter. “You could get down to being a normal height, couldn’t he, Pete?”

Peter blushed, as he always did when his height was mentioned. They all knew that the fact that he hadn’t grown since third year was a bit of a sore point for him.

Sirius shuddered at the idea of being shrunk to Peter’s height, but then swore loudly as something suddenly occurred to him. Remus, who’d been noticeably silent during the conversation thus far, looked up. “What’s wrong?”

Sirius scowled. “She’s right.”

“Who is?” James asked curiously.

“Cauldwell, of course,” Sirius hissed. “She’s bloody right. Why didn’t I see it?”

“See what?” James looked confused. “You said sorry, what else do you need to do?”

Sirius shook his head, feeling somewhat embarrassed that this hadn’t twigged before. “No, not that,” he said irritably. “Remember, she said that there aren’t three people in this school who still care that I’m a Black.”

“And that’s probably true,” Remus said.

“But we’re still treating her like a bloody Cauldwell, aren’t we,” Sirius snapped. “Like she’s some kind of Beatrice clone who just happens to be in Gryffindor. And be honest, have you EVER seen her behave like that? Even if she did have her wand out, do you really think I would have ended up a stoat?”

“I don’t know,” James said, frowning slightly. “She did give Scylla Pritchard a banana for a nose the other week.”

Sirius shook his head. “We’ve all done that. Slytherins don’t count. And you can’t say that you’ve seen her hex anyone else just for the hell of it. So yes, we’re doing just what she said.”

He could see the realisation dawning across James’ face. “Merlin’s beard. You’re right, we are.”

Remus nodded, looking like he was trying not to smile. “Yes, I think you’re right there. You two in particular. Even that Yule Ball thing was because of her sister rather than her.”

Sirius shook his head again in frustration. “Why didn’t I realise that this morning?” he fumed, furious with himself for being so blind. “She might as well have held up a big sign saying it, and I still missed it.”

Remus grinned. “Well, you can always make up for it now.” 

Sirius whirled around. “What do you mean?”

Remus indicated the portrait hole, which Cauldwell and Macdonald had just climbed through, their arms full of books. “She’s in here now. So just go apologise.”

Sirius started. While he was feeling a bit ashamed about his behaviour, he hadn’t intended to take it as far as actually apologising again, and it was with relief that he noticed the two girls in question going up the staircase towards their dorm.

“Damn, looks like I missed my chance,” he said with mock regret. “Maybe later, eh Moony?”

“Sure, if you say so,” Remus said placatingly, and Sirius knew his friend understood that he had no intention of actually apologising again. Like Prongs had said, he’d apologised that morning. That should be enough.

“Right,” said James, breaking the ensuing silence. “It’s getting late, and hunks like us need our beauty sleep. Who’s coming upstairs with me?” Thankful for the distraction, Sirius smiled to himself – James would never go up to the dorm so early if Lily Evans was still in the common room. Sometimes his friend was just too predictable.

Peter, who didn’t seem to have made that connection (or wasn’t game to mention it if he did), immediately started packing his things away, but Sirius didn’t move. He was still feeling a little bothered about this whole Laura Cauldwell thing, and barely even looked up when James and Peter made their exits. In fact, he was paying so little attention to his surroundings that he was genuinely surprised when Remus spoke a minute or two later – he hadn’t realised he still had company at all.

“Laura’s back,” Remus said quietly.

Sirius looked up. “What?”

“Laura’s back. So if you want to be comfortable about this whole thing then you’d better get that apology done.”

Sirius eyed his friend shrewdly – Remus had hit the nail on the head. He wasn’t always sure if he liked how cluey Moony could be because sometimes it felt like he had no secrets left, and a Black with no secrets was a pitiable thing.

“But I’ve already apologised,” was what he said, reluctant to actually go over and say sorry. “I don’t need to do it again.”

Remus just looked at him. “Don’t you?”

“Ah, Evans is with them, it’s a bad time.” Sirius spoke a little triumphantly. He could potentially do it with just Macdonald there, but Evans was another matter entirely. If nothing else, he’d never hear the end of it from James. And speaking of James … “Prongs’ll be disappointed that he missed her, and in her dressing gown, no less.  we go and tell him she’s down here wearing that and nothing else?”

“But she’s not, not any more,” Remus pointed out, grinning. He then looked pointedly at Sirius. “Which means that Laura’s free.”

He looked over again, and Lily Evans had indeed left the two girls at their table and was going up the girls’ staircase. He started to get up, but hesitated.

“Come on,” Remus said encouragingly. “If you don’t do this now you’ll never get to sleep, it’ll be bugging you all night.”

Recognising there was more than a grain of truth in this statement, Sirius stood up reluctantly. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was going to say, but he knew that he had to say it. Remus also stood up and walked with him part of the way across the common room, but held back when Sirius approached the table.

Once the girls looked up and saw him, he pointed to an empty chair. “Is it okay if I sit down?”

Macdonald scowled. “It’s a free country. Do wha’ ye lik’.”

Sirius frowned a little. He tended to have trouble understanding the thick Scottish accent but from what he could work out this wasn’t a good start. _Oh well_ , he thought, _I’m here now, I might as well carry on with the thing_. “Uh, Cauldwell, I’ve, er, come to apologise,” he muttered, too uncomfortable in this unfamiliar situation to actually look directly at the girl in question.

She seemed confused. “Apologise? What for?”

“For this morning,” he explained, getting up the nerve to look at her. She still looked confused, so he clarified. “Before the exam.”

Her face cleared. “Oh, that,” she said. “I thought you’d already apologised.”

Which was exactly what James had said, Sirius thought ruefully. He’d have to explain himself a bit better. “That was for what I said. This is for what I didn’t say.”

Macdonald spoke. “Wha’ are ye talkin’ aboot, Black?”

He looked at her a little resentfully – after all, this had nothing to do with her – and then turned to Cauldwell again. “You said … you said that I’d succeeded, that there weren’t three people in the school who still cared that I’m a Black.”

She nodded. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“And by extension, I think,” he went on, “you meant that there are a lot of people who still care that you’re a Cauldwell. That is, they treat you like they’d treat your sister.”

Understanding moved across her face and she looked rather impressed. “Well, yes.”

Sirius felt encouraged. “And we do that, don’t we,” he said quietly. “We treat you like ‘her sister’, rather than like you.”

“Yeah. You do.” Cauldwell’s tone had softened too, which he took to mean that she bore him no ill will. “But then so do a ton of other people. I didn’t mean to have a go at you for that.”

He sighed. “But that’s not fair. Particularly from me. I’ve been a total hypocrite for the past five years, and you’ve just taken it without ever saying anything.”

She shook her head. “I ‘just take’ a lot of things, Black. Life’s all about ‘just taking’ things. I just wanted you to realise it’s not all about you, that other people have problems a lot like yours and they deal with them. So hopefully you would stop making such a fuss about it, because I know what it’s like and it’s not that important.”

Sirius nodded. This was going rather well, he already felt like a load had been lifted from him. “I’m really sorry,” he said. “We’ll make more of an effort to treat you like Laura from now on, not like Beatrice’s sister.”

Cauldwell smiled. He was right, he thought, she really was nothing like her sister, which meant that this whole thing wasn’t a waste of time after all. “Thank you,” she said. “I appreciate that.”

He nodded again and rose from the table. Remus had been right, it was something he’d needed to say. He was even smiling as he wandered back to Remus, who grinned broadly and slapped him on the back as they made their way up the boys’ stairs.

James looked up as the door into the dorm opened. “What took you so long?” he asked, a confused look on his face. “We’ve been up here for ages.”

Sirius just shrugged, not feeling the need to go into any detail of the conversation he’d just had. “Well, Prongs, you came up early so you could get your beauty sleep. We just figured that we didn’t need to worry about that – we’re handsome enough already. Right, Moony?”

A quick look of understanding flashed across Remus’ face, and he smiled and nodded. “Right. Let’s face it, you two have an awful lot of catching up to do in that department.”

Laughing at James’ and Peter’s reactions to that statement, Sirius started to get ready for bed, feeling for the first time in ages that he’d actually done the right thing.


	2. Sirius: Detention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> December 1976

My detention that night was to take place in Greenhouse Three at seven o’clock. I was a bit annoyed that Viridian had split Prongs and I up but it did happen occasionally, when they were worried what we might do if we were left together for any length of time. Anyway, he was to report to Filch’s office at seven and I had to go to the greenhouses, so at least we’d be out of action at the same time.

I got there at about five to seven and quickly realised this was a group detention. Rosier from Slytherin was there – he was probably a relative of Aunt Druella’s so that was reason enough to stay clear of him. And a couple of gigglers were there as well, Hufflepuffs, young ones, who just stood together staring at me and, well, giggling.

Great. Some detention this would turn out to be.

Sprout was about to open up when a fourth person arrived. Laura Cauldwell. I couldn’t say I really knew her but she couldn’t be much worse than the other company on offer. I wasn’t entirely sure, though – she’d successfully humiliated me during OWLs six months earlier and I didn’t relish the idea of arguing with someone all night.

“Good,” Sprout was saying. “You’re all here.” Okay, so that was it, I wasn’t going to be spoiled by having someone decent show up. “Come in, then.”

We all followed her into the greenhouse, which was lit up with some floating lanterns. I wondered what would happen if I moved one of them close enough to one of those huge flowers by the ceiling, whether it would catch fire and we’d all have to leave. Could be worth a shot, I thought, then I wouldn’t have to spend my time with these people. Go and find Clio instead, perhaps – that would be much more fun.

Once we were in Sprout explained that we’d be fertilising the pots with some mooncalf dung that had been collected at the last full moon. Ah, yes, I knew when that was. That had been a good night, we’d frightened a herd of Hippogriffs in the forest and made them stampede right through where the Acromantulas lived. I started thinking wistfully about what we might do for the next full moon when I realised that I was supposed to be doing something.

Right. Where should I go? Not to the gigglers, that’s for sure. And not Rosier, I couldn’t spend all night talking to a Slytherin. Which left Cauldwell. I could always ignore her and work on my own, but I felt like some company – even if she was over by the Mandrakes, which I’d had enough of a couple of years back when we nicked a few leaves for the Animagus thing.  But I could ignore that. Okay. Cauldwell it was, then.

And she didn’t look like she was in a bad mood, so hopefully this wouldn’t be as painful as I’d thought it might. She had her hair tied back and with those huge dragon hide gloves in her hands she looked almost like a little girl. So definitely not scary. I wandered over to her.

“I don’t normally see you in detention, Cauldwell,” I said, thinking it would be a good idea to break the ice with something innocuous. “What are you here for?”

“The usual,” she said carelessly, not looking surprised I was talking to her. Though she was probably reasonably smart, with the subjects she’d got into, so she could well have worked out it was only by default. After all, she’d worked out the Yule Ball thing last year was a dare. “Hexing Slytherins. Maggie Flint, to be precise,” she went on with a smile. Good, she seemed to be in a good mood and not likely to pick a fight with me. “Did you see her elephant trunk?”

How could I not have seen it? That was hilarious, especially since it’d been obvious that McGonagall had made her go into the Great Hall so everyone could see the trunk before it was removed. “That was you?” I asked, probably sounding as surprised as I felt.

She picked up a handful of mooncalf dung. “Yeah, well, she’s an ignorant troll and she had it coming. Only problem was I got caught.”

I couldn’t argue with that description of Maggie Flint, it was surprisingly accurate. But the second part of what she’d said caught me off guard. “Do I take it that you do that sort of thing often and don’t get caught?” For some reason Laura Cauldwell didn’t seem to be that type.

She shrugged. “Sometimes. But only if they deserve it.”

Curiouser and curiouser. “And what did Maggie Flint do to deserve it?” I asked, dropping a bucketful of mooncalf dung onto a single Mandrake. Hey, they taste revolting – you try keeping a leaf in your mouth for a month and not harbouring a grudge against them afterwards.

She shrugged again, not really paying me much attention as she heaped fertiliser on her Mandrake. “She was having a go at Veronica Smethley in the toilets. For being Muggle-born and all that. Well, Veronica didn’t have her wand handy at the time, and I did, so I jinxed her. Not much to it, really – except McGonagall chose that moment to walk in to see who was making all the noise.”

To be frank, I hadn’t picked Cauldwell as being someone who’d go to someone else’s defence like that. Particularly when Flint was so much bigger than she was. Well, good on her! Maybe I’d misjudged her. “More to you than meets the eye, isn’t there, Cauldwell?”

She moved to another Mandrake. “There’s times it pays to be a nobody,” she said, Banishing her bucket and Summoning another one. “I don’t think Maggie even realised I was there. Then again, she doesn’t acknowledge half-bloods anyway, so that might not say much. But I’m pretty sure she didn’t think I had it in me.”

I had to agree with that. “Most people wouldn’t think you had it in you.”

She looked frustrated. “Yeah, well,” she said, “what you people need to understand is that, with my sister, I know every jinx and hex she and her friends ever invented.”

This hadn’t occurred to me and bore some thinking about. But something wasn’t quite right, it didn’t gel with the experiences I’d had with her before. “But I thought you didn’t want to be thought of as her sister?”

She shook her head. “I can’t change that,” she said, still working on her Mandrakes, “so think what you like. What I don’t want is to be judged based on her behaviour, or treated as though I’m just like she is. Because I’m not.”

Ah, that was it. Don’t judge her based on what her sister did. Well, I didn’t want to be judged based on what Reg or, Merlin forbid, my parents, did, so I couldn’t argue.

The gigglers were making a nuisance of themselves in the next row and I noticed even Cauldwell was getting irritated by their behaviour. Good to see it wasn’t just me who found them infuriating.

“What would they be,” she asked, indicating them with her thumb, “fourth year? Do you think they’ve studied Bubotubers yet?”

And that was right where they were standing. Was she thinking what I thought she was thinking? I decided to test her. “Not sure. It’d have to be touch and go.”

“Well then,” she said quietly, “one way to find out.” I stood back to watch – this should be interesting. Cauldwell started talking again, saying loudly that she could be just as petty as her sister could if she was provoked enough, making sure the gigglers got the message.

She was looking at me when she said it, admittedly out of the corner of her eye, but definitely at me. Which was why I was so surprised when a wad of mooncalf dung suddenly flew from her hand to the Bubotuber next to the gigglers, where it hit a swelling square on and the pus burst out and splattered one of them. Did she really just do that?  Without looking? There was evidently more to this Laura Cauldwell than I realised.

The girls in the next row started screaming and squealing and pretty much almost breaking the glass of the greenhouse with their high-pitched squawks. It was hard not to laugh at them, but I at least made an effort. “Nice shot! With an aim like that, you should be on the Quidditch team.”

The injured giggler had disappeared in the direction of Professor Sprout and the other one moved much further away, so chances were I’d have no more grief from them tonight. That was a great throw. I felt like I owed her one.

She didn’t seem to like the idea of being on the Quidditch team much, though, pointing out that the three Chaser positions were well filled and she’d be hard pressed to dislodge any of them. And I had to agree, with the team going like it was there was no way known James would stand for it.

Speaking of whom – the mirror chose that moment to go off. I checked to see whether Sprout was back from the hospital wing yet, where she’d taken the giggler, but she was still out so I pulled out the mirror and answered it. Well away from Cauldwell, I might add; I didn’t want her finding out too much.

“Prongs, mate, how are you?” I said once I’d opened it . “And more to the point, where are you?”

“Cleaning up the third floor corridor for Filch,” he said with a wry smile. “Without magic. Seems he was getting sick of being followed around by Halley’s Comet all afternoon.” I had to stifle a grin – that one _had_ been a good idea. “How about you?”

“Fertilising plants in Greenhouse Three. Mandrakes, of all things. I’m not alone, though, so I can’t really talk.”

“Lucky you,” said James, raising an eyebrow. “Thought you would have had enough of Mandrakes to last you a liftetime.”

I laughed and pointed out these ones were covered in mooncalf dung and were therefore going nowhere near my mouth. Let’s face it, Mandrakes weren’t going near my mouth ever again if I had anything to do with it. He chuckled at that but then brought up the old line about me wilting the plants. The one he said every single sodding time we had Herbology. Sure, it was funny at first, but hearing it a few times a week over eight or so months meant it was grating at me by then. So I did the only thing I ever did for that these days – rolled my eyes at him.

“Very funny.”

Prongs was completely unperturbed. “Glad you appreciated it. So, anyone interesting there?”

I shook my head. “Not particularly. Cauldwell’s here, she gave Flint that elephant’s trunk last week. Rosier from Slytherin. And a couple of gigglers, though one’s had to go to the hospital wing already.”

Prongs immediately thought I’d been responsible, which on reflection was probably a fair assumption. “What did you do to her?”

I pretended to be horrified. “Wasn’t me, mate. That Cauldwell, we’ll have to keep an eye on her. She did a great look-away pass with a handful of mooncalf dung and burst open a Bubotuber right next to the giggler so it splattered her. You couldn’t have aimed better yourself.” I looked up at her and smiled despite myself.

Prongs laughed. “We’ll have to remember that one. Oh, rats, it’s Filch, I’d better go. Catch you later, eh, Padfoot?”

Just in time, too, as Sprout chose that moment to reappear. The last thing I wanted was to have the mirror confiscated, but fortunately she didn’t seem to have noticed it. “Less talking, more fertilising,” she barked before seeing me, standing alone in the middle of the aisle and clearly not doing any work, and promptly told me to put my gloves back on before I lost a finger. Taken aback somewhat, I looked around to see I was standing next to the Chinese Chomping Cabbages, and hurriedly complied.

Cauldwell was more clued in than I’d anticipated, asking if it was a two-way mirror. For obvious reasons I didn’t really want to talk about it, so I hedged a bit and changed the subject. “Viridian thought it would be a good idea to separate James and I on our detentions tonight.”

She didn’t bat an eyelid. “This is for the model solar system you lot set up on the third floor today?”

I nodded. “Yep. For some reason he thought we might egg each other on to do something else if we were in detention together. Can’t think why.”

“No,” she said, completely straight-faced, surprising me by taking the bait. “That sounds completely out of character.”

I kept it up. “Well, yes, we’re both such good boys. After all, you’re clearly the troublemaker here.” That was hilarious, considering who I was talking to, but I had ammunition and I intended to use it. “I wasn’t the one throwing mooncalf dung around and dumping Bubotuber pus on other students.”

She shook her head, still not cracking a smile. She was better at this than I’d thought. “I didn’t do that,” she said, sounding for all the world like she was insulted by the very suggestion. “That was completely accidental. I knocked my elbow as I was trying to get my arm around the other side of the Mandrake. Where the dung landed was pure chance.”

A nice try, but a bit feeble. “Surely you can do better than that,” I said. “How about, a Venomous Tentacula nipped you right at the critical moment and, as a reflex action, your arm shot back and you let go of it.”

And it was on. “I got surprised by a leaping toadstool and everything I was holding went everywhere,” she said.

“You slipped on a pile of fertiliser I had dropped and were just trying to get your balance back,” I threw back.

Her eyes were dancing though her face was still straight. “I was tripped by an errant Screechsnap.”

“A Snargaluff bit you on the leg, you tripped and your bucket went everywhere,” I said, suddenly aware that I was actually enjoying this. A detention, talking to Laura Cauldwell, and I was enjoying it. Where did that come from?

Anyway it went on like that for the full two hours, joking away. It was almost like having one of the gang on detention with me rather than a girl I barely knew, to the extent that I was even taken aback when the time was up. Sprout walked the four remaining students back to the castle, leaving Cauldwell and me on the ground floor to head up to Gryffindor Tower by ourselves.

We hadn’t made it past the first floor when we bumped into Nearly-Headless Nick, almost literally. Cauldwell was going to walk straight through him until I grabbed her wrist on instinct to pull her back – he didn’t like it when people did that, and I couldn’t say I blamed him. I dropped it almost immediately though: not only was it so small it almost felt like I wasn’t grabbing anything, but what with the gigglers and all I didn’t want her getting any ideas. Instead I spoke to Nick.

“Nick! Nearly didn’t see you there.”

Nick managed to keep his dignity, despite nearly being walked into, and I got the impression he was pleased I’d managed to avoid that, instead telling me quite confidentially that Peeves was around the next corner waiting to drop a bust on someone. I took the opportunity to ask if he knew if Prongs was off his detention yet, which would mean I wouldn’t have to get the mirror out in front of Cauldwell again. The less she knew about that sort of thing the better.

Anyway, it seemed Prongs was off by now, though Nick was looking disapproving. “You two really must stop getting so many detentions,” he said sternly. “It’s so hard to keep up with them all.”

I grinned. “Rubbish, Nick, you love it. You need someone to keep you company around the castle at night.”

We turned around to go the long way to the staircase leading to the second floor, Cauldwell looking over her shoulder as Nick disappeared. “I didn’t realise the ghosts could be so helpful,” she said.

It seemed that she didn’t know him, which surprised me. Come on, she’d been a Gryffindor for five and a half years. How could anyone not know Nick? Then again, I thought, I never bothered to get to know _her_ so why should Nick have done it?

“Nick’s a good sort,” I said. “Sometimes prefers the company of the living, though if the alternatives are Peeves and the Bloody Baron I don’t really blame him. I was half expecting him to come with us, to be honest.”

She gave a small smile. “Maybe I scared him off,” she said. “Or maybe it was the smell of mooncalf dung. We stink to high heaven at the moment.”

She really didn’t know him if she thought that. “Nah, he can’t smell anything,” I pointed out. “Probably just got something else to do.”

“Even if he can’t smell normal things, he might be able to smell this,” she said, giving her hands a dramatic sniff. “They really should bottle it, you know.”

I was a little surprised she was keeping the conversation up, though figured she’d be smart enough to cut it off once we reached the common room. At least, that was my intention. In any case I accepted the challenge – after all, it was almost like holding up a big sign asking me to respond. “Yeah. They could call it ‘perfume for Slytherins’.”

She pulled her hair out of its ponytail and it looked rather nice falling past her shoulders. Had I ever noticed that before? “‘Essence of Mulciber’,” she said. “Scylla Pritchard would love it.”

Not bad for a first go. “How about ‘Eau de Snape’?” I said. “Though really it would have to be ‘Eau de Snivellus’.”

And it was on again, throwing serpent-themed perfume names back and forth. I was so caught up in the conversation I nearly stepped on the trick stair on the way to the fourth floor as I came up with my personal favourite, ‘Scylla’s Elixir’.

She smiled and it nearly distracted me. You know, in that light she was almost pretty. “Nice one,” she said, and I was strangely pleased that she appreciated it. “All right, how about ‘Barkwith’s Bouquet, now with added Bulbadox’?”

That made me laugh, the idea of putting Bulbadox powder in perfume. In fact, a lot of what she’d been saying had made me laugh, a fact that quite surprised me. I shot a look at her. “Have you always been this funny?”

“Well, you know what they say,” she said with a shrug. “You have to watch the quiet ones.”

You’re not wrong, I thought. Maybe people like Cauldwell and Macdonald were actually worth talking to, if this was the sort of thing they came up with. That’s if you could understand what Macdonald was saying, with that accent. Cauldwell had an accent too, but it was Welsh or something like that, not nearly so strong.

Of course, there was always the possibility that this was all for my benefit, but I wasn’t getting that vibe from her. No, it seemed this was normal. She wasn’t a giggler.

We got back to the common room and went in separate directions without really acknowledging each other. Good. I didn’t really want her starting to hang around thinking she was my friend or anything. This was something not quite at that level – maybe acquaintances who occasionally shared a joke. Yes, that sounded about right. And Nick had been right: Prongs was back from the third floor already so I didn’t have to wait till he got back.

“How bad was it?” he asked conversationally when I sat down. “Did you get bored to death?”’

I shrugged. “No, it wasn’t all that bad,” I said, sounding more surprised than I’d meant to.  “Have you ever _talked_ to Cauldwell? She’s _funny_.”

“Really?” James looked astonished. “ _Cauldwell_? You’re not taking the piss, are you?”

Moony spoke up. “No, he’s not. She did come up with the idea of making Snape glow in the dark, remember.”

I started – I’d forgotten that but, thinking about it, it was true. That had been funny at Sluggy’s Christmas party, hexing Snape to make him glow in the dark. I was almost ashamed I hadn’t remembered whose idea it was when I cast that spell. In any case I wasn’t sure if I appreciated the support right now or not, though: if Moony had known about this, then why hadn’t he mentioned it before?

“That’s true,” Prongs was saying thoughtfully, his eyes flicking to the girls’ table by the window which, I saw, Cauldwell had just joined. He was probably looking at Lily Evans rather than her, but part of me felt a little annoyed, like he was trying to steal my thunder or something. What thunder that was, I had no idea, but I didn’t like it.

Whatever it was, though, it didn’t matter, because Wormtail moved a bit closer to me and got a whiff of my hands, and changed the conversation. “Phew, Padfoot, you stink! What have you been doing, rolling around in dragon dung?”

“Mooncalf dung, actually,” I said shortly. “I’ve been in the greenhouses, remember?”

“Who’ve you been rolling around _with_ , though?” Prongs asked, a mischievous grin on his face. "Just how well _have_ you been getting along with Laura Cauldwell?"

“Very funny,” I shot back, not in the mood for this.

Wormtail, who I’d thought was just playing with his wand, suddenly made it emit a loud farting noise. “What?” he said innocently when we looked at him. “Just thought you needed the right sound effects for the smell.” He looked expectantly at James. “Right, Prongs?”

“Definitely,” Prongs said, getting his own wand out and joining in. Wormtail, as usual, looked relieved, and I prepared myself for what I could see becoming a long night. Finally, having had enough, I cleaned my hands magically and deliberately pulled out my homework in order to put a stop to this behaviour.

“Aw, what’s wrong, Padfoot?” James asked mockingly. “Scared that if you stink you won’t get so many girls after you?”

“Yes, of course, that’s precisely what I was worried about,” I said sarcastically. “Seriously, though, if I don’t get a start on this Defence paper it’ll never get done before tomorrow.

“It’s what you get for leaving things till the last minute,” Moony pointed out.

“Yes, because I planned this detention, didn’t I?” I muttered. “Still, if I get started now, it shouldn’t take long.”  And I found my favourite quill and settled down to write my essay, not wanting to know just why it took so much effort not to turn around and glance at that table by the window.


	3. Sirius: Just another Gryffindor party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March 1977

 

 

It really is just another Gryffindor party. Another excuse to get drunk and another night spent fending off the odd equally-drunk giggler. So why am I feeling a little nervous or even apprehensive about it?

I’m pleased for Moony, of course. It’s not every day that you get to celebrate turning seventeen, and he’s recovered pretty well from the full moon last weekend. And of course it’s just like him to want to share the limelight with someone we don’t even know all that well, just to keep himself out of the spotlight for too long so no one will ask any questions that might end up being awkward.

You know, it must really suck being a werewolf. I used to think I had a lot of secrets, but Moony? His whole life is built on them. And it must be hard for him because he’s naturally such an open person and he just can’t talk about the one thing that has the biggest impact on his life. Not to anyone but us, that is.

Anyway. The party. Like I said, it will be just like any other party.

I keep telling myself that.

As the time draws near I set myself up at the most solid table the common room had, the one we like to use as a bar because it can hold the most bottles. We’ve got the usual provisions – butterbeer for the kids, Firewhisky for the older ones, a few different types of juices if people want mixers – and Laura’s donated some wine she got for her birthday which isn’t something we’d normally stock, but not unwelcome. I’m sure some people will want to drink it.           

When it’s time to go both guests of honour are present and people start to seem to enjoy themselves. Pete’s found some good tunes for the gramophone and even the gigglers are behaving themselves – for the first part, at least. I’m deliberately not spiking their drinks, even when they ask me to, but I can’t guarantee they won’t find a way to get some Dutch courage somehow. If I can delay it, though, I will.

I get annoyed though when Laura opens the portrait hole to let that jerk of a boyfriend of hers in. Really, it would be a much better night without him, but I suppose he’s entitled to be here. It’ll put a dampener on the night, though, having someone like that around ruining it for everyone else. I glare at him as he tries to make himself the big man by making a show of introducing himself to Moony. Yeah, like we don’t know who you are, dickhead. Go talk to someone who gives a rat’s.

Prick.

“What’s up with you, Padfoot?” Prongs asks as he joins me by the bar, bringing me back to reality. “You look like you’ve been swimming in stinksap.”

I shake my head. “Nothing.” And, ignoring the fact he obviously knows I’m lying and just don’t want to talk about it, I hold up the nearest bottle of Firewhisky. “Want some?”

“Ah, you’ve talked me into it.” He reaches out for the glass I’m pouring. “How did you know?”

I grin back. “Lucky guess.” And then I change the subject yet again. “I see that young Miss Evans has decided to grace us with her company tonight.”

His face lights up in that pathetic way it does whenever Lily Evans’ name is mentioned. “Yeah, I must thank Cauldwell for that,” he agrees. I stifle a scowl – if she’s sharing a party with Moony, then surely Laura’s entitled to have a first name by now? But Prongs doesn’t notice and starts rambling on again enthusiastically about Evans. “She’s a vision, though, isn’t she?”

I look over at her, noticing that she’s making a point of ignoring Prongs as she talks to some of the girls. Yeah, she looks nice, but she’s nothing special, and the fact she’s clearly not interested would quite frankly put a dampener on things if it was me who was after her.

Actually, all the girls look nice. It’s nice to see them, not only not in their school robes, but having made a bit of an effort to dress up for the night. They’re not a bad looking bunch, and with them all dressed up like that it certainly makes for a nice view. The only thing that bothers me is Laura’s not wearing the clasp I bought. It would go with the outfit, so it’s not that … maybe she didn’t like it.

That thought disappoints me.

Of course, it’s only because I like to think I’m a reasonable judge of character and don’t like to have my assessments proven wrong. It’s not a nice feeling, being wrong, and I’m not used to it. Damn instincts, leading me astray again.

I shake my head and help myself to the Firewhisky. Can’t hurt, can it?

“Can I have a drink please?  Something strong would be good,” says a female voice, followed by a few giggles. Great. One of _them_. I look up to see a bold-looking girl who’s maybe a fifth-year, smiling at me.

“Sure,” I say, filling a goblet with pumpkin juice and then adding a good amount of coloured water – complete with fiery aftertaste, thanks to a book on Charms I found in the Restricted Section of the library – from a bottle labelled “firewhisky” that I keep for these very occasions. Moony wasn’t too impressed when I nicked the book, but he appreciated the result at the next party we held. I turn to the girl. “Here you go.” And I put the goblet down in front of her, ensuring that she can’t ‘accidentally’ brush my hand or anything. I’m wise to all their tricks by now.

And, speaking of Moony …

“Need a hand, Padfoot?” he asks, effectively getting between me and the giggler.

I smile. “Nope, all under control, mate,” I say, winking to convey my gratitude in his getting rid of that annoying girl. “Though, did you want anything?”

He shakes his head. “Not me. I came over to get some drinks for the guests. Laura wants some of that wine and I think Aubrey would like a Firewhisky.”

I make a face. “Do you think he’s thick enough to be fooled by the firewater?” I don’t like the idea of Aubrey getting pissed in our common room – it can’t lead to anything good.

Moony laughs. “You know, he just might be. He doesn’t exactly give the impression of being overly endowed with brains, does he?  You can always try, and if he complains then say it’s a dud bottle or something.”

I grin, picking up the fake whisky. This is why Moony’s one of my friends, I think. He always knows just what to say. “Here you go, then,” I say, pouring the drink before grabbing a wine bottle and pulling the cork out. “And here’s Laura’s.” That one’s wine, just like she asked for, with no additions or subtractions. I don’t have anything against _her_.

Yep, it’s just like every other party we’ve held over the past few years. Aside from Aubrey, of course, but if we can get rid of him before the night’s over I’ll consider it a job well done. I glare at him again across the room. Bloody Hufflepuffs, crashing a perfectly good party. Nope, he definitely doesn’t belong here, I’m sure of that much.

I have to laugh when Aubrey takes a swig of the firewater and doesn’t raise an eyebrow, and Moony looks over at me and grins. Yep, we were right: he’s thick as a plank, that one. Can’t tell a bit of charmed water from a dram of Ogden’s. Frankly it’s hilarious, though I stifle the laugh when Laura catches my eye – even if her boyfriend is an absolute tosser, he is her guest so, in front of her at least, I should _try_ to be polite. Or, in any case, not outwardly hostile. Once her back’s turned, though, it’s back to the sniggering, to the extent that I nearly forget to serve my latest customers.

More gigglers. Brilliant. But I fob them off with the same firewater that fooled Aubrey. In fact, if we could set Aubrey up with one of these gigglers it would be close to a perfect match. I make a mental note to remember that, because Prongs would certainly appreciate the idea.

If we can ever get him away from Evans, that is. He’s hanging around her like a lovesick teenager … oh, wait, that’s what he is. I beckon Wormtail over to talk about it.

“Do you think he could look more pathetic if we paid him?” I ask, grinning down at Wormtail as he pours himself a Firewhisky. Oh, wait, that’s the firewater, not the whisky. Wormtail doesn’t seem to notice, though, so I don’t mention it to him. Something else to tell Prongs later.

Wormtail must’ve had some booze earlier though because he’s certainly a lot bolder than usual. Or maybe the firewater’s acting as a placebo. In any case, he’s on form. “We could try,” he says slyly. “You know, suggest he go for more of the puppy-dog eyes or something. I reckon he’s only about a seven at the moment, and he could go for a ten.”

“What, on the pathetic-git scale?” I ask, pouring myself a whisky. A real one, not the flavoured water.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” Wormtail says, grinning. “And he’s not holding her drink for her nearly enough, or laying his cloak on the floor for her to step on instead of the carpet.”

I have to admit, he has a point – the carpet has a fair few stains on it from different food and drinks from tonight and I can just see Prongs taking off his cloak so the fair Miss Evans needn’t sully her shoes. Or something. “Tell you what,” I say, fishing for my wand, “how about we start telling him how he’s scoring?”

Wormtail bursts out laughing and reaches for his own wand. “Hey, Prongs!” he shouts, succeeding in getting not only James’ attention but also the attention of just about everyone else in the room. “Want to know how you’re going over there?”

Prongs looks confused, but his face clears when Pete waves his wand and a scarlet and gold ribbon appears in the shape of a seven.

“What am I being scored on?” he calls across the room, grinning as I give him an eight. Clearly he thinks a high score is good.

“Being a pathetic git,” I say, smiling broadly. “You know, something right up your alley. Face it, mate, you’re a natural.” Pretty much the whole room is watching us now, with the notable exceptions of Evans, who is clearly pretending not to be paying attention, and Laura and Aubrey who look like they’re getting off in a corner. Or, more to the point, he’s trying to get off and she’s not letting him. I allow myself a small smile at that – I may not be getting any tonight, but at least that jerk isn’t either.

My attention goes back to Prongs, who’s looking pissed off. I can’t think why – it’s not like we’ve never humiliated him in front of Evans before, and it didn’t look like she was paying him any more attention tonight than any other night so he can’t have thought he was in with a chance. “Why so glum, Prongs?” I ask. “Can’t you work out how you can get your score up higher?”

“Yeah, you could get a ten with just a bit more effort,” Wormtail says, taking a big swig of – oh dear, that’s the firewater again. I just don’t have the heart to tell him he’s drinking from the wrong bottle. “Want some ideas?”

Uh oh. I should have known he was going to step right into his own trap. The trouble with Wormtail is he’s such a pathetic git himself he could give pointers to the best of them, but he doesn’t always realise it. Prongs is going to have a field day with this.

Sure enough, he stands up and finally leaves Evans’ elbow, where he’s been hovering for the past half hour. “What was that, Wormtail?” he asks, smiling confidently. “You want to give me hints on being pathetic? What would you suggest?”

Wormtail doesn’t even get the joke. “Well, you could go more for the puppy dog eyes,” he says earnestly. “Even with your glasses it’d work better.” Mother of Merlin, he’s taking it seriously. I stand back and just watch.

Prongs plays along. “What, like this?” he says, pushing his face into the most outrageous contortions.

“No, more like this,” Wormtail says, demonstrating what he means. With his little rat-eyes it looks more than a little ridiculous.

Prongs is doing his best not to laugh. “This, then?” Again, he’s not even trying, and I’m struggling to contain my own laughter as Wormtail tries to correct him.

Finally Moony decides to step in and put a stop to the charade, but only after Prongs has somehow wrangled his pathetic-git score up to ten. “Sorry to interrupt, you lot,” Moony says smoothly, “but half the guests are leaving so I thought you might want to acknowledge that in some way.”

“Oh. Right.” Prongs very quickly puts his serious face back on, while Wormtail looks a little disappointed his opportunity to teach James something has come to an end.

Anyway, Moony’s right, and people are starting to file up the stairs to go to bed. I check to see whether Aubrey’s taken the hint and gone too but no, he’s still here, sitting on the couch by the fire like he owns the damn thing. I start thinking about whether a few strategically-placed dungbombs would make him budge, but then again we’d have to deal with the smell of the dungbombs and I don’t really feel like that. Plus it might upset Laura, and it’s her birthday party so I suppose I should try to be more accommodating. Beats me what she sees in the git, though, because she’s all right, you know? She could do so much better than _him._  

The good news, though, is the gigglers are disappearing. So now I can start to really enjoy myself.

“So,” I say, bringing both the Firewhisky and the firewater over to where the rest of them have gathered, “who’s up for a drink?”

Everyone puts up their hands and I start pouring them out, making sure no one is looking when I change bottles for Aubrey. He’s not getting any of my Ogden’s, I’ll say that much. I hesitate with Laura, too – I’m not sure if I want her drinking too much because that prick might try to take advantage and like I said, she’s all right. Eventually I decide to give her the real thing, but to keep an eye on things and step in if I think Aubrey’s going too far.

“You ever had this before, Laura?” I ask as I give it to her. She’s pretty naïve in a lot of ways, she’s probably been sheltered by her folks.

I have to smile when she challenges me in response. “You tell me,” she says, looking me in the eye. “Have I?”

So she does know I spike people’s drinks occasionally, though she probably thinks it’s always with whisky and not with the firewater. I’d wondered how much she notices.

In any case I shake my head – I wouldn’t have done that to her, not for her birthday. “No, I haven’t put this in any of yours tonight,” I say, still smiling.

I’m not surprised when she too shakes her head in answer to my original question. “Then no,” she says. “Only elderflower wine, like we drank earlier, and some mead at Christmas.”

Yes, I’d figured as much. “Be careful then,” I warn her. “It can get to your head pretty quickly, this stuff.”  The stuff I gave _her_ , that is, not the stuff I gave Aubrey. He probably thinks he’s pissed off his nut when in reality he’s stone cold sober … it’s usually hilarious when that happens.

And while I’m on that …I get Prongs’ attention and very subtly show him the firewater bottle before jerking my thumb at Aubrey. Perhaps a bad move because he almost chokes on his dram in trying not to laugh, but he does give me the thumbs up so I know I’ve been doing the right thing.

Anyway, I’d hoped a ‘drunk’ Aubrey would make a fool of himself by getting up and dancing or singing or something that drunk people normally do. I didn’t expect him to make a fool of himself by becoming even more of a prick than usual. Unfortunately, though, that’s exactly what he does. Apparently a pissed Aubrey is a bold Aubrey. Note to self: remember that in case this could potentially happen again.

What happens is this: Laura’s making subtle noises suggesting he go back to his own common room and eventually he gets the message. Unfortunately the message is his head is ‘bed’, as opposed to ‘his bed’.

“I think I’d better head back downstairs now,” he says, looking at her. His right hand is all over her and it’s making me wince for some reason – probably because he’s such a creep. “Don’t want to get caught out of bed too late,” he goes on. “Unless you wanted me to stay?”

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Dickhead.

Not surprisingly, you can pretty much hear a pin drop. He’s kidding. He has to be. He honestly thinks she’s going to let him anywhere near her bed? I may not be as good a judge of character as I’d thought (where IS that clasp?) but I’m obviously better at it than he is.

Good. It’s a reassuring thought.

Anyway she does exactly what I would expect of her, which is to pull away from him and stare at him in shock. Which is pretty much what everyone else is doing, too, though they don’t have to get the prick’s hands off them in the process. I’m a bit disappointed in what she says, though, because it’s not nearly harsh enough – something about explaining he couldn’t get up the girls’ stairs anyway because they turn into a slide. (Kind of fun, going down that slide. I don’t mind it. Not all that keen on the siren that goes with it, though. But I digress.) What she should be doing is blasting him to kingdom come, either verbally or with her wand. I wonder if I should offer to do that for her.

In any case he gets the hint – maybe he’s not as thick as I thought – and hightails it out of there. Possibly he noticed the death looks everyone else was giving him and that helped in the decision. I must say it’s nice, though, seeing the back of him. If he never sets foot in this common room again it’ll be too soon.

As the portrait hole closes I say the most polite thing I can think of, remembering that it’s Laura’s birthday and I don’t want to upset her, particularly not right now. “Is it just me or was that just a tad presumptuous?”

Evans, incredibly enough, is the first to agree with me. And I’d thought she didn’t want anything to do with any of us! Clearly I’ve been mistaken there. Moony backs us up pretty quickly before changing the subject as Laura re-joins the group, still looking a bit annoyed, and gestures at me for another drink. I’m happy to oblige – I think in her situation I’d want one too.

Soon enough I’m in need of a dram of my own, though – Martha mentions the word ‘Marauder’. Or one of its derivatives. It’s clear enough the girls are aware of that particular secret, though how any of them could have found out is beyond me.

Prongs looks pale, probably wondering what Evans will think. Eventually we work out that Mary Macdonald has been inside our dorm but didn’t see anything beyond the marauder banner, so it’s not all bad, and Prongs makes up some excuse that explains why we don’t want it getting out – something like “it’s nice having one thing about ourselves the school doesn’t know about”. It’s true, of course – no one wants to be a completely open book, and Moony and I have enough secrets for everyone – but it’s not quite the way Prongs is explaining it. Moony, Wormtail and I have a hard time trying not to laugh as Prongs manages to pull it off and convinces the girls the marauder nickname is the only thing about us that the rest of the school doesn’t know.

I busy myself with pouring some more drinks as an attempt to hide my face. This is hilarious. The rest of the school doesn’t know we spent last Saturday night roaming around Hogsmeade in our Animagus forms, either, but we’re not about to mention that. No, it’s just about the nickname, and what’s even better is the girls seem to buy it.

Firewhisky, firewater, a belligerent prick and having a secret let out – though not a big one. Not a bad night overall. And I realise that, really, I was right all along.

Just another Gryffindor party.

 

 


	4. Fancying Laura?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> April 1977

 

It was the first day of the Easter holidays in sixth year and James, Remus and Sirius were at James’ house, waiting for Peter to arrive in time for the full moon that night. Sirius was aware he should probably start calling it their house, since he lived there too, but he had never felt comfortable enough with the arrangement to go that far. In any case, they were in the middle of the sitting room floor surrounded by books, newspapers and magazines from the Potters’ library, though the conversation was more along the lines of how James could get Lily interested in him.

Suddenly Sirius was distracted by James’ voice calling his name. “Padfoot, are you even listening? Earth to Sirius, Earth to Sirius.”

He looked up from _The Dark Arts Outsmarted_ , which he’d been flicking through as he ignored James’ angst. Lily was pretty, yes, but for the life of him he couldn’t understand why, if she wasn’t interested, James didn’t just cut his losses and pick someone else. Sirius understood the thrill of the chase and all that, but this had been going for years and was getting ridiculous. It wasn’t like there weren’t any other options. 

“Don’t mind him,” Remus said just as Sirius raised his head. “He’s just busy trying to work out how he can get Laura away from Aubrey and into a broom cupboard with him.”

This got his attention. “Laura? Laura _Cauldwell_?”

Remus nodded. “Of course. We don’t know any other Lauras, do we? Why?”

He just stared at him, completely confused. “Why would I be getting Laura into a broom cupboard?”

James laughed. “Padfoot, my friend! Aren’t you well? I never thought I’d be explaining to YOU why you would get a girl into a broom cupboard.”

“You see, Sirius,” Remus went on, smiling broadly, “when a man and a woman love each other very much ... ”

Sirius scowled. “I know what broom cupboards are for,” he said irritably. “What I don’t get is why I’d want to get Laura in one.”

Remus looked surprised. “You mean you _don’t_ want to?”

He shook his head, now bewildered. “Of course I don’t. What, you think I’m after _Laura_?”

“To be honest, I did think that.” Remus was clearly doing some quick thinking. “Sorry, Padfoot. My mistake.” He turned back to the _Compendium of Common Curses_ and pretended to lose interest.

Sirius shook his head, completely perplexed as to where anyone could have got that idea from. Remus, who looked up again and saw his face, just laughed. “Look, forget I said anything,” he said, still mildly, though Sirius had the distinct impression he was enjoying himself immensely. “I made a mistake.”

Sirius looked at James for support, but he just shrugged. “Don’t ask me, you’re the one who should know,” he said, obviously a little disappointed that the conversation had turned from Lily but just as obviously curious as to where this would lead.

“Well, were you labouring under this misconception as well?” Sirius hissed. He wasn’t sure why he was so uptight about this ... the idea of getting his hands on Laura in a broom cupboard, now he thought about it, was almost appealing. No, he thought, that was ridiculous, and he scowled again.

James looked like he was thinking about it. “Well, no, it hadn’t occurred to me, but now Moony mentions it ...” His voice trailed off, turning into laughter as he took in Sirius’ face.

To change the subject and think about something else, Sirius picked up another book at random and recognised it as one his own parents had in their library. “Hey, Prongs, I didn’t think you’d have this sort of rubbish,” he said, holding up the book in question, _Nature’s Nobility_.

James laughed. “We’re almost as old as you are, why wouldn’t we have it? But Padfoot,” he went on with mock concern, “why the sudden change of subject? Was it something you’re not comfortable with, by any chance?”

Remus grinned as well and Sirius knew he’d never get out of this without his friends exploring the idea further, no matter how uncomfortable he was. In fact, he recognised that the more uncomfortable he was the more likely they were to keep discussing it, so he was doomed. Okay then, he thought, if I can’t avoid it I might as well go along with it.

“Right, Moony, how’d you get the idea in the first place?” Even though he was calm while asking the question, he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to hear the answer.

“Forget it,” said Remus, though he didn’t look at him and Sirius was sure he was smiling. “I was wrong, it’s not worth going into.”

This was infuriating. “Yes, you were wrong. But if you’ve got this idea, then other people might have as well, and we don’t want her thinking it too.” Merlin only knew he had enough trouble with girls following him around as it was, he didn’t need another one joining the mix. Particularly if she thought it was reciprocated, Merlin forbid. And he didn’t want Laura, who he was just becoming reasonably good friends with (for a girl, at least), getting the wrong idea.

Remus smiled. “Alright then, describe her for me.”

Sirius thought about it, stupidly aware that the very concept of sitting there in the Potters’ sitting room and describing Laura Cauldwell was absurd. “Um … I don’t know … funny … smart … fun … pretty – actually, very pretty, and a great body …” His voice trailed off as he became distinctly uncomfortable. Was Moony right, he wondered? No, he couldn’t be, Sirius was never like this when it came to girls. In fact, he prided himself on it. That was James’ area. Hadn’t he just been mocking him about this in his head? 

The other two both laughed. “I hate to say it, Padfoot, but it does sound like there might be something there,” James said with a grin. 

Sirius shook his head again. “No, I would have said that about any of them. Trimble, for example.” That’d get Moony worked up, he thought, he had a soft spot for her. “Or Macdonald.” He wondered vaguely if he was trying to convince them or himself, but then pushed that unwelcome thought to the back of his mind where it belonged. Really, Laura? Come on! The girl wasn’t even single! 

“Of course you would,” Remus said mildly, annoying Sirius further by ignoring the barb about Charlotte Trimble as he pushed his book aside and picked up a nearby newspaper, turning the pages absently.

Sirius was well aware that neither James nor Remus was actually reading what was in front of them, and if they were even looking at the pictures or headlines he would have been surprised. He was a bit bothered though – was Remus right?

After a minute or two of increasingly frustrating silence, Remus looked up again and eyed him carefully. “You really don’t fancy her?”

Sirius shook his head firmly. “No, I don’t.” He sounded more convinced than he felt.

“Right.” Remus smiled. “Then, once this thing she’s got with Aubrey blows over, I might ask her out myself. She’s a pretty girl and we get along well.”

Sirius felt himself getting irrationally angry and reached for his wand, speaking before he knew what he was going to say. “Best friend or not, if you lay one lousy finger on her I’ll curse you into next year. 

His voice was harsh and loud and the words were out before he’d even realised what they were, and he was more aware of his own reddening face than he was of James’ and Remus’ laughter. Mother of Merlin, he thought, his eyes widening in surprise, I do like her. A lot. An image of him and Laura came unbidden into his mind and he felt a strange pang of desire as he imagined touching her, kissing her. Her arms around him, inviting him in. So, to test himself, he thought of the same things but with Mary Macdonald. Nothing. No reaction of any sort. So of its own volition his mind drifted back to Laura and that pang came flooding back as he imagined pulling her robes off her, her bare skin warm against his. Something he had absolutely no right to even think about, considering she was going out with someone else. Scowling, he changed position so his feet were on the floor and he could lean forward, hugging his knees and hiding any physical evidence of what he’d been thinking about. Make that an awful lot.

When did that happen? More to the point, how did that happen? How could he, Sirius Black, be feeling jealous of _Bertram Aubrey_ , of all people?

“No, you don’t want to get Laura Cauldwell into a broom cupboard _at all_ ,” James was saying with a chuckle. He then forced a thoughtful look onto his face. “Though she’s not a bad choice,” he went on, apparently considering the idea. “You could do a lot worse.” He paused, smiling at his friend. “She could still do with bigger tits, though. 

“What, just like Lily’s?” Sirius asked sharply, surprising even himself with this reaction. “She’s more in proportion now, she’d look funny with big tits.”

“Yes, but she’d have big tits,” Remus pointed out with a broad smile, taking James’ side. “Win-win situation there.”

Sirius had no answer for that, and he’d certainly never been on the ‘smaller is better’ side of an argument on breasts before, but he still thought she looked better as she was. If she was too top-heavy she’d just look wrong, she wouldn’t be Laura. She was perfect just the way she was. 

And that was the problem. He had never been in a situation like this before. He’d always just picked someone vaguely attractive, almost randomly, when he’d felt the need for a girlfriend, more as something to do than anything else. If they’d said no, which hardly ever happened anyway, he’d just moved onto the next one. While he’d obviously found different girls attractive, he’d never fixated himself on any single one of them: that was a waste of time and energy which could be better spent doing other things. Actually wanting someone in particular, especially someone who wasn’t even available and may not be interested in him at all, was completely unfamiliar ground. “Merlin’s beard,” he heard himself say. “What do I do?” 

Remus had calmed down again. “I’d suggest the first thing to do would be to get your head around the idea,” he said. “I didn’t mean to spring it on you like that, I’d figured you already knew.” 

“Apparently not.” Sirius’ voice was a little bitter. “And then I’d go and pick someone who’s seeing someone else, wouldn’t I?”

James grinned. “That won’t last,” he said. “At the very least, they’re bound to break it off once she comes back to school next year. It’s hard to keep something like that going when you never see each other.”

Sirius felt unaccountably relieved at his words, recognising the logic even though his brain was in turmoil. There was always next year. That was less than six months away, he reasoned to himself, but he found himself wondering if he could last that long if that was what was needed. The image of the two of them together came back, enticing him with its possibilities. Hugging his knees again, he eventually turned to Remus, who was watching him with a rather indulgent look on his face.

“And maybe by then her boobs might have grown a bit more,” Remus said, winking at him.

Sirius looked at him scornfully. “She’s seventeen, that’s hardly likely.”

“But you never know,” Remus said, and an image of Laura, naked from the waist up, came into Sirius’ mind. He had no idea how accurate it was but if it was anywhere near right then she didn’t need them to grow any more. She looked wonderful. How unfair was it that a prick like Bertram Aubrey had seen that and Sirius had to imagine it? Yes, he might have seen more tits in his time than Aubrey had, but how come Aubrey got to see the ones he wanted?

He forced that image out of his head and turned to Remus again. “How long have you known? And why didn’t you tell me?”

Remus grinned. “Like I said, I’d figured you already knew. The way you look at her sometimes, I just assumed you were mentally undressing her.” He paused, as though thinking. “I think I first noticed it when she and Aubrey got together. That foul mood you were in had to come from somewhere, and it always got worse when they were around. I just thought it was jealousy that you hadn’t got in first, even though you were still with Clio at the time. Not that that lasted long, I might add. It all reminded me very much of Prongs when Lily was seeing Lance Savage.”

James nodded. “I must admit, even I can see the similarity now you’ve pointed it out.”.

Sirius found he agreed. “I did wonder what was setting me off,” he admitted after thinking it over. “Sometimes it was worse than other times. Clio thought it was something she’d done.” He smiled ruefully. “Maybe it was a good thing we broke up over it.”

Remus was still grinning. “And I thought it was confirmed at our birthday party. Not only did you start calling her by her first name, but you didn’t spike any of her drinks. Which is pretty much unheard of, with you.”

Sirius felt he had to hand it to him, that was a good point. “I didn’t, did I?” he mused. “That never even occurred to me.”

James laughed again. “That’d have to be proof,” he said. “Trying to protect her, and you didn’t even realise you were doing it. Ah, Padfoot,” he went on, “welcome to my world, full of passion and mystery and ‘why did she say that? D’you think she likes me?’.” He grinned at Sirius, his fingers still in position as inverted commas for the last bit.

Remus looked triumphant. “And, let’s face it, Padfoot, that completely irrational hatred of Aubrey had to come from somewhere, didn’t it?”

“Yes, okay, you’ve got me,” Sirius said, now unsure if he was pleased or annoyed this had been brought up at all. It felt like something too personal to share … but then again, they all knew about Lily and how different was it, really?

Remus smiled broadly. “Right, then. We have a new Marauder mission – Project Laura, to run concurrently with Project Lily. Any ideas to me by this time tomorrow.”

At that moment a figure appeared in the fireplace, spinning wildly until it came to a halt and stepped out into the living room. “Hi,” Peter said. “Sorry I’m late.” He looked at each of the boys in turn. “Did I miss anything?”

_Ah, Wormtail_ , Sirius thought. _The world has changed. You have no idea._


	5. A day in the life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> April 1977

 

James was packing some last-minute things into his bag. “You almost ready, Padfoot?”

Sirius nodded, unsure just why he was feeling so apprehensive. They were just going back to school, that was all, for the last term of sixth year. No big deal. No, not at all.

James, too, looked a little pre-occupied. “Okay, I’ve got the cloak,” he muttered, going through his bag one more time. “And the mirror. Got yours, mate?”

Again, Sirius nodded. Yes, James was being a little more fidgety than usual but he had to admit that if they left the cloak or the mirrors behind then it wouldn’t be nearly as interesting a term.

“Okay, how’s the hair?” This time James stood up straight and looked his friend in the eye. “Do I look okay?”

Once more, Sirius nodded, wondering when he would be required to actually speak. He was happy not to, though, because his mind was going at a million miles an hour. The talk of the mirror had reminded him of that detention back before Christmas when Laura had seen it, and he hadn’t wanted to talk to her about it or give away any secrets.

_How things change._

Picking up his own bag, he shook his head rather violently. He knew why he was feeling apprehensive now. He’d be seeing Laura soon. And he finally understood why James was fussing around so much, why he did that at the start of every term – because of Lily. It made sense now.

He’d got his head around the idea by now, but he wasn’t sure what he’d do when he actually saw her. He supposed it depended on whether that prick of a boyfriend was anywhere around when he did, and whether he had his wand handy. He was of age; he didn’t care if he got caught doing magic outside of school because there was nothing anyone could do about it. And if it was against Aubrey, that could only be better, couldn’t it?

“Are you coming, Padfoot?”

James’ voice brought him back to reality once more and he picked up his bag and followed his friend to the kitchen where Mr and Mrs Potter were waiting. “Yes, I’m here,” he said irritably. “And I’m ready.”

The four of them Apparated to the alley behind Kings Cross, which was in theory well out of sight of any wandering Muggles. In practice there was usually a homeless person asleep behind the bins somewhere, but then again they probably wouldn’t pay much attention to the sudden appearance of four strangers anyway, and if they did they would attribute it to the bottles at their feet. Once Mr Potter had made sure that everyone had arrived intact and no one had Splinched themselves, they rounded the corner and made their way into the station.

The first people Sirius saw were his parents and younger brother. Great. Just the thing to make him feel more comfortable. As he expected they paid him no attention but he couldn’t say that didn’t hurt – no matter what he thought of them, he still wanted his own family to acknowledge him. He was still brooding about this when he pushed his way through the barrier to the platform, and got a shock when the first person he saw on the other side was bloody Vablatsky.

_Fantastic. This day just gets better and better._

Fortunately Prongs and Mr and Mrs P weren’t far off and, hoisting his bag onto his shoulder, he hurried after them, paying only enough attention to Vablatsky to run a shoulder into her to knock her back a bit. Hey, it wasn’t his fault that there were so many people around that he couldn’t get through, was it? Though she was probably following him now, if her past behaviour was anything to go by. Wonderful.

Suddenly, though, he paused mid-stride. Having raised his head to find Prongs, he’d spotted Laura and dickhead Aubrey just by the doorway to one of the carriages. The prick had his arms around her and was probably trying to feel her up or something, and she was letting him. The very sight appalled him – surely she knew that she was worth so much more than that?

She looked gorgeous, though. He felt his heart skip a beat as he looked at her and wondered if this was what Prongs went through when he saw Lily. If it was, he understood now ... though at least Prongs had it easier in that Lily Evans didn’t have a boyfriend. And a dickhead for one at that.

Feeling rather huffy, he hurried down the platform to wherever Prongs had ended up, noticing in the process that Laura had met his eye and almost immediately pulled dickwad into the carriage and away from him. What did that mean? Did she really hate him that much?

_Brilliant. Today will undoubtedly go down as one of the highlights of my life._

“What the hell is wrong with you?” James asked as Sirius finally caught up to where he’d found Moony and Wormtail. “You look like you’ve been drinking bubotuber pus.”

“Nothing,” he said noncommittally. He knew that Wormtail was the only one present who might believe him, but he didn’t want to talk about it. Certainly not in front of Mr and Mrs P, in any case.

“It’s those parents of yours, isn’t it?” Mrs Potter said kindly. Grateful for the excuse, Sirius nodded, unable to take the dirty look from his face. “I saw them ignoring you as we arrived,” Mrs P went on, giving him a quick hug. “Don’t worry. They’ll come to their senses eventually.”

“Yeah, right,” he muttered sarcastically. “But thanks, Mrs P. That means a lot.”

He meant it. Even if she was on completely the wrong track, her words could be applied to other people – or, rather, another person – and he hoped that there was truth in them. Forcing himself into at least the semblance of a better mood, he turned to his best friend, who was running a hand through his hair and looking a little flustered. _Time to rile him up a bit_ , Sirius thought, looking for the right words to get just the right reaction. It was only seconds before they appeared on his lips.

“So, mate, have you seen Lily?”


	6. Sirius: Good riddance to bad rubbish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> May 1977

We checked the map every day for a couple of weeks, and finally it bore fruit – Aubrey and Esther Davies were at it again, this time behind the tapestry of Andros the Invincible on the second floor. The one with the passageway that led towards the kitchens. Prongs immediately set everyone into action.

“Right, Wormtail, you transform and set up behind them to make sure they don’t escape that way,” he instructed. Peter nodded, looking almost apprehensive. Really, that kid was a nightmare sometimes. What did he think was going to happen? “Moony, you and I will stand guard in the corridor underneath the Cloak, and Padfoot, once we’re all set, you go and get her.”

I smiled to myself a bit – James had set up the roles very deliberately. And I would have expected no less, I would have done the same if this was about Lily.

Anyway, as soon as James and Remus were set up in the corridor I headed back to the tower, where Laura was bound to be, finishing some assignment or other. It was kind of nice, her being so conscientious, because it meant I always knew where to find her.

I ran through the portrait hole and looked immediately at the table they usually sat at, the one by the window, but some second-years had got to it first. Damn it! Where was she? I looked around in a panic, but found her soon enough. “Laura, I am so sorry, but you’ve got to see this,” I said, holding out my hand for her to take.

She just sat there, looking confused, and I realised I probably hadn’t explained it well enough. Oh well, that could wait, so long as she came. “Come on,” I urged, getting more and more agitated. What if she didn’t come? Everything would be ruined. “NOW!” It came out rather louder than I’d meant, but it had the desired effect – she put down her textbook and got up to follow me. I grabbed her hand and pulled her back through the portrait hole.

“Got her,” I whispered into the mirror so Prongs would know we were on our way. “Don’t let them leave.” Her hand felt tiny in mine, almost like I might break it if I held on too tight, but it was soft and warm and no doubt not as delicate as it felt.

I kept hold of her all the way down to the second floor, taking her through some of the most secret passageways that only the gang and I knew about. While it would have been nice to take the long route, especially since I still had her hand, time was of the essence and I had to get her there before Aubrey and Davies left. She had to see it.

“Are you going to tell me what this is about?” she asked on the way down.

I shook my head – she might not believe me if I just told her. “You’ll have to see. So long as we’re not too late …” And I quickened my steps to get us there sooner.

Finally we arrived and I stopped, not completely sure where Prongs and Moony were since they were underneath the Cloak. Sure enough, they appeared almost immediately only about five feet away. Prongs immediately noticed I was holding her hand and raised an eyebrow, as though suggesting it might not be a good look for when the tapestry came down. And he was right, of course – she had to be standing alone when she saw it.

“I am _so_ sorry,” I said again, half meaning what she was about to see and half the fact that I’d had to let go of her.

She was panting a little and looking very confused, but James put a finger to his mouth to stop her from saying anything. Fortunately she was pretty quick off the mark, as usual, and closed her mouth immediately. Right, this was it. Prongs got his wand out and tapped the tapestry, and the whole thing came crashing to the floor.

Sure enough, there were Aubrey and Davies, snogging as though their lives depended on it. Half their clothes were off and his hands were all over her – good thing he and Laura were about to break up, if that was the sort of thing he was up to. No wonder she’d been so uncomfortable. And frankly, the very idea of his hands on her at all just made my blood boil. He didn’t deserve to be in the same country as her, let alone be close enough to actually touch her.

Laura just stood there, gazing at them as they broke apart and looked at her. And Aubrey, to his credit, looked horrified.

She spoke first. “Something you wanted to tell me, Bertram?” Her eyes were flashing and I knew that I never wanted her to look at me like that, full of hurt and anger and betrayal. How could he do that to her? Did he not realise how special she was?

“Laura! It’s not what it looks like! I can explain!” Aubrey sounded panicked, and well he should have. He was about to lose her, I was sure of it.

“I think it’s pretty obvious what it is,” she said coldly.

“No! Please!” He looked hopefully at James, Remus and me, like we might offer him support. As if! Why would we do that? After what he’d done to her?

“I’ve seen enough,” she said, still coldly. “How about you just keep on doing whatever you _think_ it is you’re doing. Do whatever you like – or _who_ ever you like. I don’t care. I never want to see you again.” She turned around and walked down the corridor until she’d rounded the corner and was out of sight.

Well, I’d guessed right. She’d ditched him on the spot. That is, I’d hoped she would, but she might have been fonder of the creep than I’d realised so there was always the risk she might have stuck it out with him. But this was fantastic – she was single again! And maybe there might be a chance for me if I played my cards right.

But first things first. She had taken off alone down the corridor and I wasn’t sure how far she’d gone. I had to admire the way she had kept her dignity in a situation like this, but she had to be hurting. I hurried around the corner after her to offer some support.

I found her not far past the corner, sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall. She looked both furious and exhausted, as though this had taken a lot out of her, and I had to check the impulse to put both arms around her and let her collapse onto me. (Would have been nice, though … no, mustn’t think that, can’t move in too soon.)

Instead I sat on the floor next to her. “Geez, I am so sorry,” I said. “But you had to know.”

She looked at me scathingly. “Did I? What if I was happier not knowing?” _Right, settle_ , I thought, _she’s not mad at you, per se, she’s mad at Aubrey. You just happen to be here_.

“It would have hurt more in the long run,” I said reassuringly, allowing myself to put an arm around her shoulders and giving her a squeeze. It was just for reassurance, of course, nothing else, though I noticed with some satisfaction that she relaxed into me like she belonged there. “Would you rather have gone on, maybe for months, and then found out about it?”

She sat there quietly for a while, probably considering the answer. “Probably not,” she said eventually. “But why would he do that?”

I shook my head. “I can’t work it out either,” I said. “He needs his head read. He must have known what would happen.” Oops, did I just say that? Did I let out too much? Did she guess I had ulterior motives beyond just friendship in doing this? But anyway, I meant it. Honestly, he had Laura. Beautiful, funny, smart, incredible Laura. How could he even look at someone else? Let alone Esther Davies, who was absolutely nothing in comparison. But then again, who was?

Fortunately she appeared to have not noticed I might have said anything unusual and sat there quietly for a while, still letting me keep my arm around her. I admired her fortitude in keeping calm like this – most girls would have collapsed into a sea of tears by now, confronted with the evidence like that, but not Laura. She’s strong, I thought. Doesn’t look it, doesn’t even feel it, but she is. Though I had to admit, if she had started crying it would have been a great excuse for wrapping both arms around her and holding her to me for a while, on the pretext of comforting her. Sometimes, you have to take what you can get.

Eventually she appeared ready to stand up again and I helped her to her feet. She still needed comforting, I told myself, and I put my arm back around her as we walked back around the corner.

Oops. Too early. Aubrey was still there, suffering from the curses we had agreed on, and Prongs was pushing him down the hall. Laura stopped dead as she saw them.

Amazingly her fortitude continued, and she still didn’t cry. “Thanks,” she said instead, her voice sounding weak and strained. I looked at her with concern - maybe this was taking more out of her than I’d realised.

Prongs turned around and looked at her. “How’s she doing?” he asked me.

“Holding up,” I said, though it occurred to me I might be trying to convince myself. She looked at me and nodded, and I went on. “I think she needs food though.”

James seemed to agree with me. “Chocolate. She’ll feel like she’s been through a Dementor attack. Take her down to the kitchens. I’ll find somewhere prominent to dump this git.”

The kitchens were a bit of a walk away and I wasn’t convinced she’d make the distance. Though I could always carry her if it came down to it … I looked at her, trying to work out how strong she actually was. “You all right to walk? It’s not far, just down from the Great Hall – do you think you can make it?”

She took a deep breath and looked at me steadily. I could have dived right into those eyes and gone for a swim in them, but again, this was not the time. “Should be able to.”

A good start, she intended to try at least. Still refusing to fall into the ‘damsel in distress’ mentality, insisting on standing on her own two feet. One of the things that made her so special. “That’s the spirit,” I said with a smile. “Let me know if you’re having trouble, though, okay?” Meaning, you know I’d be more than happy to carry you. I reluctantly dropped my arm from her shoulder, realising if we took the short cut (which was probably the best way to go, as we were less likely to be bothered by Filch or anyone else) we would never fit two abreast, but instead took her hand on the pretext of guiding her.

It wasn’t like before, she didn’t grasp my hand with nearly the same energy she had on the way down from the tower. But she was obviously determined to go as far as she could on her own, so I just led the way, albeit a bit slower than usual. Soon enough we reached the still-life and I tickled the pear to open the door to the kitchens.

As always it was mayhem inside, and I hoped that the sudden noise wasn’t too loud for her. In any case I calmed the house elves down as quickly as I could and placed the order.

“Now, everyone, this is Laura,” I said, thinking, remember that name, hopefully you’ll get to know her reasonably well. “Laura has just had a bad shock. I was thinking she needs chocolate, maybe some treacle tart, that sort of thing. What can you do for her?”

True to form, the house elves immediately started cramming food into her hands. She looked a little overwhelmed so I took the tray and mug of hot chocolate from her and started to lead her towards the exit. Maybe bringing her inside wasn’t such a good idea, she looked a little paler than she had before and I didn’t want her collapsing on me. So I thanked the house elves and took her back into the castle proper.

We were a bit close to the Hufflepuff common room, which I was sure she knew well but wouldn’t want to see right now, so I led her to an empty classroom that was well out of sight of the corridor that went there. The last thing she needed was to see one of Aubrey’s friends wandering around, which for all I knew they could be. After all, while the map was in my pocket both my hands were full, so I couldn’t exactly check. I knew she wouldn’t see Aubrey himself, as James still had him, but he was bound to have friends around. Even him, though I wasn’t sure he deserved them.

She sat down on a table, still looking exhausted, but still trying to make conversation. “So, that was the kitchen,” she said wryly. “Is it always that chaotic?”

I had put the tray down next to her so she could start eating, and she promptly began taking a chocolate frog out of its wrapper, catching it deftly before it hopped away. “Pretty much,” I said with a shrug. “They’re always really keen to help.”

She finished the frog and reached for another. “And I used to think you lot were so smart, raiding the kitchens for food all the time,” she said, already sounding a little stronger. “You’re not exactly forcing them at wandpoint to hand it over, are you?”

I watched her eat another chocolate frog and start on the treacle tart, noticing her hand brush the clasp I’d bought her that she always wore. Not that she knew I’d bought it, but that didn’t matter, what mattered was she liked it. And the chocolate was working – she looked more like herself already, with the colour coming back to her face and her breathing more regular. “You feeling better now?”

She hesitated, like that was a difficult question. And maybe it was, she’d just had one hell of a shock and it would take some getting over. Finally she smiled – how beautiful that smile was! – and spoke, sounding stronger still. “Yeah, I am. Thanks.” Unwittingly I let my mind wander as I gazed at her lips, imagining how it would feel to have those against my skin, wondering whether they were as soft and tender as they looked.

I let her eat in silence for a while, unsure what I could say that wouldn’t reveal too much. After all, the last thing she needed at a time like this was another bloke throwing himself at her. So I decided to play the friend card for a bit longer, though I did try to push my hair back off my face a bit. Had to look as good as I could, just on the off chance she noticed. “I meant what I said before,” I told her, forcing any thought of her lips to the back of my mind for the time being. “This way will be easier in the long run.”

She looked sad, and I felt awful for bringing it up again like that. I wanted to kill Aubrey for hurting her like this. Still no tears, though – she was holding up pretty well. “I know,” she said eventually, sighing slightly. “Doesn’t make it easy now though.” She was looking at the tray next to her but raised her head suddenly and looked me full in the face. “How did you know about it?”

Ah. The map. I had always intended she know about it, of course – I intended she would know all my secrets eventually – but I wasn’t sure now was the time. But then again, it might offer a distraction. Ignoring the fact James might not be too impressed that I let her in on it, I pulled it out of my pocket and unfolded it, laying it on a spare table and muttering the spell that brought it to life.

She was watching me with a confused look on her face so I beckoned her over. “It’s a map. The gang and I wrote it.”

I couldn’t help but notice the awe and admiration on her face, and thought how nice it would be to have her look at me like that in another context. _Patience, Padfoot, give her time_. “But this is incredible,” she said, her eyes darting all over the parchment. “It shows everybody at Hogwarts on it!” I looked for us, in the room by the kitchens, and found the dots quickly – ‘Laura Cauldwell’ and ‘Sirius Black’. Nice to see the names together like that. Hopefully eventually that’ll happen much more often. She looked up at me again.  “What did you use, a Homonculous Charm?”

I nodded. “Yes, that one took a while to get right. I think I fried about a dozen sheets before I got it.”

“ _You_ did it?” She looks even more impressed, and I wonder if I can work this to my advantage. I don’t really see how, though, so I just shrug and let her get on with looking at the map.

It was good, having the map out, because it gave me something to do with my hands so I could keep them off her, particularly with her being so close now. When I got to the point of having trouble keeping my hands to myself I started talking again. “We were checking the map to come – well, down here, actually, to the kitchens for a night-time feast – when we saw them in a small enclave behind that tapestry with the dancing trolls on it. Well, what else would they be doing in a place like that at nine o’clock at night? So we sent Wor- Peter out to check – he’s, er, good at sneaking around without being seen – and he came back and confirmed it.” Oops, almost said Wormtail. She knows about the map but it’s much too soon to start letting things slip about the Animagus stuff. She took advantage of my taking a breath to speak again.

“You’re saying this has happened before?”

I nodded, having forgotten she didn’t know that. Did she need a hug? I snuck a look at her but she looked fine, so I probably couldn’t justify it. Instead I answered her question, going to sit on a nearby desk. “Yep. We found out just after the holidays. I wanted to tell you straight away, myself, but Pr- James said it might’ve been a one-off, that these things can happen even in the best relationships. You know, caught off guard, a moment of weakness, that type of thing. And you never know, he might have got a fit of the guilts and told you himself… So James thought we should wait … and if it happened again … then we’d … tell you …”

My voice trailed off as I again got distracted by the vision in front of me. She was leaning in close to the map, so much so that I could see down her top. Lovely round breasts with soft white skin and just the hint of lace on the bra … More than a little distracting, let me tell you, and I admit I felt a bit guilty but I just couldn’t stop looking. Prongs was wrong, they didn’t need to be any bigger at all. They were just perfect. Anyway I could feel a hard-on coming so I leaned forward a bit so she wouldn’t notice: the last thing she needed was something like that confronting her. I admit I’d been hoping she didn’t straighten up anytime soon – I’m only human, after all, and for all I knew this might be the closest I’d ever get – but she noticed I was a bit distracted (okay, a lot distracted) and looked up at me. Well, that definitely shook me out of my stupor.

“Right. Well, since then we’ve been checking periodically to see if they did it again, and, well, tonight they did.” She nodded and bent over the map again, and I had to struggle to keep my train of thought. “So we put Pete inside the tunnel to stop them escaping that way, and James and Remus stood guard in the passageway under James’ Invisibility Cloak, and I – ” I stopped again as she looked up at me. 

“James has an Invisibility Cloak?” I’d forgotten she didn’t know that, either – it had been part of my life for so long it was something I didn’t even think about. In any case it was an interruption and I should be going on with the story.

“Yeah, yeah, he has an Invisibility Cloak,” I said. “Anyway, they stood guard and I came to get you.  You know the rest.” _Don’t stare at her tits. Don’t stare at her tits._ If I repeated that enough it might just sink in.

My eyes went back to her face, which had become very solemn all of a sudden. “I’m glad I dumped him, then,” she said. Music to my ears, let me tell you, and not just because of the Welsh accent that made everything she said sound musical. “James is right, once you can sometimes explain away, but twice …” Her voice trailed away but she didn’t need to say anything else, I knew what she meant. Unfortunately she also chose that time to go back to her original seat, away from me, so I had to gaze from a distance again, wondering if that skin really was as soft as it looked, jealous that someone like Aubrey knew the answer to that and I didn’t. Really, what kind of world allowed a prick like Aubrey to get someone like Laura? I knew I wasn’t the best catch in the world but while I hadn’t really cared about the girls I’d gone out with, at least I’d respected them enough not to cheat on them.

Laura, though, she was different. I thought I might care about her. Actually, I already did care, otherwise I wouldn’t be here with her in the first place. And I’d certainly never cheat on her. Hell, if I could even see the parts of her Aubrey would have seen, I’d die a happy man. Never mind touching them … though of course I wouldn’t say no to that either …

My mind was going so determinedly along this path and Laura was focusing so completely on the tray of food I’d organised for her that when she spoke again it took me by surprise. “What did you do to him?”

This brought me back to reality again pretty quickly and I tried to cover up what I’d been thinking. Fortunately it was an easy question to answer, though it was probably redundant anyway – surely she knew what we’d done? Not to worry, she was still in shock so it was forgivable. “Full body bind, simple Engorgement Charm.” Not enough, I thought, but Prongs had put his foot down, saying it was quite sufficient to be getting on with. “We wanted to make his head a more appropriate size, considering what he thought he was good enough to get away with.” I’d wanted to curse him to kingdom come, of course, but then again I didn’t always think rationally where Laura was concerned.

She attempted a smile, but it turned out not as bright as the one earlier had been. “And where did James leave him?”

I tore my eyes from her and looked at the map. There they were, on the second floor by Dumbledore’s office, so I said as much, adding, “He’ll find him when he comes out in the morning.” Ah, staying all night on the cold floor with a head double normal size. It couldn’t happen to a nicer bloke. However just then I saw Filch’s dot come across them and shortly afterwards Dumbledore himself came out, so it looked like we’d be paying. _Oh well_ , I thought, shrugging. _Anything for Laura_. And it managed to calm down the hard-on so that could only be a good thing.

Laura, gem that she was, looked horrified. “But you’ll get in trouble!” Like she was the one worried about me.

I just looked at her. Wasn’t it obvious a detention was the least of my concerns? Hell, I’d do any number of detentions if it meant I might be able to push her up against a wall and snog her senseless at some point in the near future. (And the nearer the better, if she could turn me on like that just by being there.) “So? We’ll cop that. It was worth it.” She still didn’t look convinced so I went on, pushing my hair out of my eyes so I could see her better. “Look, Laura, it’s not like we’ve never done detentions before. It will probably even be fun, if they don’t split us up again. And he deserved it, he should never have done that to you in the first place.”

Oops, might have said too much again. Fortunately she didn’t seem have caught on – so quick off the mark with some things, not with this. I wasn’t sure if I was pleased or disappointed – while it was useful now, it could make things more difficult in the long run.

She stood up again and looked at me as firmly as she could. I was a bit worried about her still – she was clearly still not at her best – but she looked determined. “I think I’d like to go back to the tower now,” she said, still a little feebly but sounding a bit stronger.

Well, Laura, your wish is my command. “Of course,” I said, grabbing her hand again. It was warm and she gripped it with more strength than she had on the way down to the kitchens, so she was definitely feeling better as well as sounding it. “I’ll get you back in one piece.” _Hang on_ , I thought, _better mention the map_. Not that I thought she’d say anything but it’s best to make sure. “Oh – and Laura?”

She looked up at me, her eyes wide. “Yes?”

Those eyes distracted me and I almost forgot what I was going to say. Oh, right, the map. That was it. “Would you mind not mentioning the map to anyone? We don’t want word about it getting out, we’d never hear the end of it.”

She nodded, looking surprised. “Of course not. I’d assumed that went without saying.” I smiled to myself – I’d guessed right, she knew when to keep her mouth shut.

“Thanks.”

I still had her hand but needed to pick up the map and hold it right to illuminate our path back to the tower. _Not good thinking, Padfoot_. But dropping her hand was almost impossible – it was so soft and warm and, well, Laura – so I tried to flick the map one-handed to get it to the right spot. Fortunately it worked – she might even have thought I’d planned it – so I didn’t have to let go of her at all.

At least, not until we got back to the tower, which was all too soon. As soon as we climbed through the portrait hole she thanked me, but then dropped my hand and headed straight up to the dorm, leaving me to just watch her go.

Once she’d disappeared from view, for lack of anything better to do I headed upstairs to my own dorm, where the others were already in bed. “What happened?” James asked.

“She’s okay,” I said with a shrug. “Holding up pretty well. She’s pissed off, though.”

“Not going to take him back then?” Moony asked.

I shook my head. “Doesn’t look like it.” I had almost reached a smile when I remembered what I’d seen on the Map. “Hey, what happened with you?  I saw Filch catch up with you.”

Prongs nodded, sitting up in his bed. “Yep. You and I have double detentions tomorrow night. Separately.” He chuckled suddenly. “Though once Dumbledore heard the story, I got the impression he thought Aubrey deserved everything he got.”

“Good. I knew I liked the man.” I grinned, but got more serious almost immediately as I thought of something. “But double detention?  Tomorrow night? The timing could have been better …”

“You’re telling me,” Prongs said. “I have to miss Quidditch practice because of it. So I’m damn pleased she’s not taking the jerk back because that would have made it a bit of a wasted effort on our part.”

“So what happens now?” Peter asked.

I shrugged again. “Not sure,” I admitted. Yes, she was single, but for how long?  And would she ever see me that way anyway?

“Wait for her to get over the git,” Moony said. “Then move on in. I reckon you’ve got a decent chance.”

“And how do I know when that’s happened?” It felt like a dumb question but I just didn’t know the answer. I really had to get more experience in these things, I realised.

“When she stops reacting to him,” Moony said. “If she bumps into him and doesn’t flinch, that’s your chance to jump in.”

“Right.” I didn’t know what to think. To avoid it entirely, I started getting ready for bed. “Oh, and Moony? Here’s the map.” I pulled it out of my robes and threw it onto his bed.  It’s your turn to look after it, isn’t it? 

Prongs was looking at me curiously. “You showed it to her, didn’t you?” 

I took him on. “Yes, I did. So?”

He just looked at me, and even without his glasses on I could tell he was thinking hard. In the end, though, he just shrugged. “No, that’s fine. I’m okay with that. I think we can trust her.”

“Damn right we can trust her,” I said without thinking. Though, if I’d thought about it, I probably would have said it anyway. Anyway I must have looked angrier than I’d realised because Prongs backed off immediately.

“Okay, okay,” he said, hands out in front of him in surrender. “You win. Tell her what you like. Your girl, your decision.” Within reason, of course, but that was so obvious he didn’t need to say it.

My girl. I liked the sound of that. All I had to do now was make it true.

 


	7. An expedition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> May 1977

Finding the right time for their invasion of the girls’ dorm was proving more difficult than they had anticipated. They needed the common room to be close to empty, they needed the girls to all be in class (or at a meal), and they needed to not be missed themselves from whatever it was the girls were doing. Finally, in desperation, they chose supper time. It was the only time all criteria could be met.

“Won’t someone ask why we’re not at dinner?” Peter asked as they pulled the invisibility cloak off themselves in the deserted common room.

James shrugged. “We miss dinner all the time,” he pointed out. “Detention, pranks, whatever. Everyone knows we just duck into the kitchens later for a feed.” He looked around the common room. “No first-years hanging around where we can’t see them?”

Remus pulled his wand out. “ _Homenum revelio_ ,” he said, waving it vaguely around the room. There was no response. “Nope, we’re alone. You guys set?”

“Are we sure this is going to work?” Sirius asked a little nervously. “We don’t want the siren going off again.”

“Male pets,” James said confidently. “I’ve seen that many male cats and rats – not you, Wormtail – and things go up those stairs and they didn’t change. We should be fine. Just so long as Moony doesn’t touch anything.”

“Besides,” Remus added, “it’s not like anyone’s going to hear the siren even if it does go off. They’re all in the Great Hall."

Nodding, the other three boys wordlessly changed into their Animagus forms. Picking up the invisibility cloak, Remus swung himself onto the back of the stag James had now become, feeling decidedly uncomfortable. It was awkward riding Prongs and going up the winding staircase only made it feel more perilous than usual, which was saying something – this was definitely _not_ his preferred mode of transport. However, if they were to go into the girls’ dorm, there were no other options.

Slowly, cautiously, they made their way up the stairs, not pausing till they got to the landing that had a door marked “Sixth year”. Remus climbed off James’ back and put a hand on the door handle.

Too late. The siren sounded and the floor beneath them gave way, turning into the slide they’d been hoping to avoid.  The other three boys transformed back to their human forms on the way down and looked at each other when they’d all landed.

“Looks like we have to actually get inside the room before we can transform back,” James said redundantly over the wailing of the siren. “I didn’t even think of that.”

Sirius, clearly annoyed, pulled his wand out and pointed it at the slide they had just gone down. “ _Silencio_ ,” he muttered. Incredibly, the noise stopped.

The four boys stared at each other in surprise. “That actually _worked_?” Sirius asked incredulously. “I was saying it as a joke!”

“Worth remembering, that one,” James said with a grin. “Though it’ll take a minute or two for the stairs to change back. Damn! Why didn’t we realise that could happen?”

“Because we’ve never been that far up before,” Peter said reasonably.

Sirius looked around the room.  “We still alone? We’re losing valuable time here. How long do you think they’ll be down there for?”

“It’s unusual that anyone leaves the Great Hall before six,” Remus pointed out, looking at his watch. “We’ve probably still got three quarters of an hour.” He looked around the common room and did the revealing spell again. Again, it came back negative. “Good,” he went on. “We are still alone. So we can have another go.”

“This time,” James said, getting back to his feet, “you open the door, Padfoot, and we’ll all go inside before we transform back.” He made a face. “That should be fun, a full sized stag and an enormous dog in the middle of a crowded dorm. There’ll be five beds in there so there’ll be even less room than there is in ours.”

“Not much option, it seems,” Sirius said glumly. “Right. We going again?”

Once more they carefully transformed and then made their way up the stairs, Remus perched precariously on James’ back. He clutched at the antlers nervously – he never liked this mode of transport, but he was just as eager as James and Sirius were to see inside this room so he clenched his teeth and steeled himself. It was nerve-wracking, sitting astride the stag as it inched its way up the spiral staircase, losing its footing occasionally on the shallow steps, but it was, as they had said, the only way.

This time Remus stayed on the stag as Sirius, in dog form, got up on his hind legs and manipulated the door open. Then, ducking his head so as not to hit it on the doorframe, he followed the others inside, wincing involuntarily as he watched James try awkwardly to get his antlers through the doorway.

In order to give James and Remus some room, Sirius had immediately jumped on one of the beds before transforming back to his human form. Peter, on the other hand, was having all sorts of problems; he had been pounced on as soon as he entered the room by Mary Macdonald’s cat, and was now writhing and kicking as the creature held him in its mouth.

“DAMN,” James said loudly as soon as he had transformed, picking up the cat and trying to wrest Peter from its grip. “How could we forget the cat?”

“It doesn’t like me either,” Sirius said nonchalantly, still on the bed he’d originally jumped on. “Hissed like hell as soon as I opened the door and tried to attack me, too.”

“Well thanks for warning us, mate,” James muttered, finally wrenching the cat’s jaws open and freeing Peter, who transformed immediately and shrank back towards the wall, eyeing the cat nervously.

Sirius just shrugged, looking completely unconcerned. Watching him, Remus soon worked out why – going by the Welsh flag on the wall next to it, the bed he was on just happened to be Laura’s. Unsure if this was by design or lucky chance, Remus just grinned at him and turned back to James.

“What are we going to do with this?” James was asking helplessly, holding the flailing cat at arm’s length. “We can’t let it stay in here with us.”

“Bathroom?” Remus suggested.

“What, and ruin our chances of having a good poke around in there?” James looked horrified. “How about the wardrobe, that should keep it for a while.”

“You _don’t_ want to have a poke around in the wardrobe too?” Remus asked, grinning at him. “With all of Lily’s stuff that might be in there?”

James shook his head. “Nah, Lily’s more of a trunk girl,” he said confidently. “Wardrobe will be more Martha’s stuff, I reckon.”

Remus shrugged. “If you say so,” he said, wondering why his friend was so sure about this.

“All right, Merlin, what would you do?” James looked annoyed now and clearly wanted to be able to put the cat down. If Remus was honest with himself he wanted this sorted too – the creature was making one heck of a racket and quite frankly it was getting irritating.

Soon enough, however, he’d worked out the best solution. Grinning, he pulled out his wand and pointed it carefully at the animal. “ _Petrificus Totalus_ ,” he said. His aim was good – the cat stopped moving immediately and stared at him, its face frozen in anger and disdain.

James grinned. “Right, you win,” he said, quickly finding what looked the most likely to be Mary’s bed and laying the cat on it. “Now, which one is Lily’s …” He was already making his way towards Lily’s bed before he finished his sentence and sat down on it dramatically, a goofy smile on his face.

Peter, who had been watching the whole drama from his spot by the bathroom door, audibly breathed out and made his way nervously into the middle of the room. “Neat, these girls, aren’t they?” he asked, clearly trying to work out which bed he should be adopting to avoid treading on anyone’s toes.

“Well, not everyone’s as much of a slob as you are, Wormtail,” James said absently, having worked out how to open Lily’s trunk.

Remus had found Charlotte’s bed and was settling down to read the newspaper clippings she had on her wall. “That one, Wormtail,” he directed, pointing his friend towards the final bed, which by elimination had to be Martha’s. “Look around to your heart’s content.”

Peter looked at the bed with obvious trepidation. “Do these girls have any other pets?”

“Only owls,” Sirius said. Remus looked over to him to see that his friend had now climbed off Laura’s bed and was sitting on the floor next to it, going rather methodically through the bedside cabinet and checking out the books and letters stored in there. “Laura and Charlotte both have owls, but they should be in the Owlery.” He looked up over the bed. “So you’re probably safe.”

“Right,” said Peter, sounding only slightly appeased. He sat on the bed looking like he didn’t know what to do with himself, and Remus felt a slight pang of pity for his friend. They had all come up because three of them wanted to know more about certain girls in this dormitory, but Peter, while he liked to admire from afar, had never really set his sights on any of them and therefore probably felt quite out of place.

In truth, Remus also felt a little uncomfortable. What they were doing was an invasion of privacy and shouldn’t even be attempted. Even the knowledge that Mary Macdonald had been in their dorm wasn’t enough to reassure him, as she was only one person and in this case all four of them were active participants. As such, he hesitated to go through any of Charlotte’s things, feeling guilty for even looking at her decorations. If she wanted him to know any of this stuff, she would tell him.

James and Sirius, on the other hand, seemed to have no such qualms, or if they did they were very good at hiding them. Sirius was flicking through Laura’s books and photographs, and James had half the contents of Lily’s trunk on the bed and was just gazing at them. It was quite funny, really.

Clearly Peter had the same reaction. Remus heard laughter coming from Martha’s bed and, looking over, saw Peter almost doubled over as he pointed at Sirius. “Padfoot,” he choked, “did you really just smell her pillow?”

Unable to stifle a grin, Remus looked over to Laura’s bed, where Sirius was looking extremely embarrassed and more than a little annoyed. “Of course not,” he snapped, turning his face away. “Why would I do something like that?”

James burst into laughter. “Sprung!!!” he cried, grinning broadly. “Caught in the act!” He looked thrilled to have this new ammunition to use against his friend.

“Because you can talk, Prongs,” Sirius said scornfully. “Got half of Lily’s underwear spread out in front of you and running your hands through it. Yeah, you’re completely innocent.”

James looked only slightly abashed and held up a lacy bra. “But can’t you just imagine her in this?” He flopped back onto the bed, still holding the bra, with a dreamy look on his face.

Sirius laughed sourly. “I would have thought you’d rather imagine her out of it,” he said, turning his back on the rest of the room and focusing on Laura’s trunk, fiddling with it for only a second or two before it sprung open.

“Well, yes,” James admitted, still lying on the bed and holding the bra up for further inspection, “but think how it would add to the anticipation!”

Remus grinned again, watching the very different attitudes his friends had to this activity. James was openly enjoying himself and unembarrassed to talk about Lily and his hopes for the future, whereas Sirius would just as obviously have preferred to do this alone, in private, with no one to witness his actions.

They sat quietly for a while, Remus and Peter just looking around the room while the other two continued their investigations. Eventually, Sirius broke the silence.

“Anyone object to a ceremonial burning?”

“A what?” James turned towards him and asked what the rest of them were thinking. “What on earth do you want to burn?”

“This,” Sirius said grimly, showing them the cloak that Aubrey had bought Laura for her birthday a few months back. He was holding it at arm’s length with just the tips of his fingers, as though it would contaminate him somehow.  “Never want to see it again.”

“And neither does she, I’d wager,” Remus agreed. “Though burning it might be a bit much, don’t you think?”

“Why?” Sirius looked confused. “Too good for it, I would have thought.”

“No, I’m with Moony,” James said. “We can’t go around burning their things, no matter what they are or who they’re from.”

Sirius looked unconvinced. “Well, how about Vanishing it?” he asked hopefully.

“No,” James said forcefully. “Leave it. Being in here is enough, don’t you think?”

“And speaking of which,” Remus added, looking at his watch, “we should think about winding this up. Supper will be over in about ten minutes.”

James jumped to his feet. “TEN MINUTES???” he asked, hurriedly putting Lily’s things back in her trunk. “But we’ve only just begun! Haven’t even checked the bathroom yet!!”

“What do you expect to find in there?” Sirius asked. “It’s a bathroom. They’re all the same.”

“It’s a _girls’_ bathroom,” James said. “They’re full of potions and creams and makeup and all sorts of weird things. Come on, let’s take a look.”

Peter had already got up from Martha’s bed and opened the bathroom door, and they were immediately overwhelmed by the fragrance that pervaded the room.

“Martha’s,” Sirius said immediately. “It’s her scent.”

“You’d know,” James said. “That dog’s nose can pick up anything.”

“It’s a bit overwhelming,” Remus admitted, only going a step or two into the bathroom before the strength of the smell started making him light-headed and he came back out again. “I don’t think I want to spend much time in there.”

“Well, they can’t know that the smell in there scared us off,” James said bracingly. “I vote we leave the note in there, just to confuse them.”

Remus stopped in his tracks. “Note? What note?”

“The one that says we’ve been in here, dummy,” James said. “What, you didn’t think we weren’t going to tell them, did you?”

“Even I knew about that,” Peter scoffed, coughing from the fumes in the bathroom. “It’s payback for them getting into ours.”

“And we’ve all got to sign it,” James went on, “to prove that we were all in here.” He looked around the room quickly. “Anyone seen any parchment and quills we can use?”

“Here,” Sirius said immediately, opening Laura’s trunk again and fishing through it quickly before pulling out what James had asked for. “Use these.”

“Excellent.” James dipped the quill in the ink bottle Sirius had found and started writing, saying the words aloud as he did. “Dear Lily, Laura, Charlotte, Mary, and Martha.” He looked up and grinned. “That’s the right order, right?” Upon seeing Sirius nod, he re-inked the quill and kept writing. “Thanks so much for allowing us to have a look at your dorm. We found it so much more interesting than ours is! Sincerely, James.” He handed the quill to Sirius. “Your turn. Write your name.”

Wordlessly Sirius took the quill and inked his own name on the parchment, before handing it to Remus. “You’re next.”

“Why is there an order?” Remus asked, noting that Sirius had gone past Peter in order to give him the quill.

“It’s the order of the girl’s names,” James explained. “Lily’s first, so I sign it first. Then Laura, so that’s Padfoot. Then Charlotte, that’s you. Then Pete at the end.”

Remus took the quill. This was surprisingly subtle for someone like James to have come up with, and he wondered if Sirius had had some say in it. In any case he had no choice but to write his own name after Sirius’. “Your turn, Wormtail.”

As Peter scrawled his name on the parchment and James blew on the ink to dry it and went to the bathroom to affix it to the mirror in there, Remus looked around the room. He couldn’t remember exactly what it had looked like when they’d come in but it seemed close enough to untouched that he figured it would do. In any case, the girls would find out pretty quickly what had gone on once they opened the bathroom door, so he probably shouldn’t be too worried. He did feel a flash of guilt, though, as he straightened out the covers on Charlotte’s bed. Would she forgive him for this intrusion? Or was it something that he, as he knew inside, should never have done?

The others were also doing a final scan of the room when James spied Mary’s cat on the far bed. “Bugger,” he said, “we have to turn the cat back. Wormtail, did you want to leave now?”

Eyeing the cat with obvious trepidation, Peter nodded and quickly transformed and scurried out of the room. Remus could hear his tiny feet on the stone stairs outside and nodded at James as the door closed.

“I think you’re going to have to un-freeze it, Moony,” James said. “We’ll have to do it from just outside the door, just before we close it, if it’s not going to jump at us again. And the only way we can stand outside is if we’re transformed. You okay with that?”

Remus nodded. He’d expected as much. “It makes sense.”

“Right.” James looked at Sirius. “How about you transform first and head out the door and wait, and then I’ll do it and Moony can get on my back and we’ll meet you on the landing. Sound reasonable?”

Sirius nodded, looking at his watch. “We’d better be quick, though. We don’t want to get caught up here.”

Within a moment the huge black dog had headed out the door and was sitting on the landing, its tail wagging expectantly. James picked up Mary’s cat and laid it on the floor just by the doorway, then transformed himself and buckled his front knees to allow Remus to climb aboard. Once outside, Remus cast the spell through the open door to free the cat and then hurriedly closed the door, trapping the clearly agitated animal inside. Grabbing Prongs’ antlers nervously, he hung on for dear life as the stag followed the dog awkwardly down the stairs.

“Remind me,” he muttered when they reached a mercifully still empty common room and slid off, “never to do that again.”

James immediately transformed back into human form. “What?” he asked, looking offended. “I’ll have you know my back is _very_ comfortable, thank you very much.”

“It probably is, usually,” Remus said. “But not going up and down those stairs. Not fun.”

Peter, who had opened the portrait-hole to check to see if anyone was coming back, turned around suddenly. “Supper’s over,” he said nervously. “They’re on their way.”

Double checking that they hadn’t left any evidence behind of what they’d been doing, Remus picked up a bit of stray dog hair and threw it in the fire before turning to James. “All clear. What now?”

James just grinned. “What now? I’m starving, mate. Who wants to race me to the kitchens for some supper of our own?”

Sirius looked grateful. “Have we ever told you how brilliant you are?”

“All the time. Though that doesn’t make it any less true, of course. So, who’s coming with me?”


	8. Quidditch and Laura

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> June 1977

The final Quidditch match for the year was getting closer, and Sirius for one was keen that Gryffindor record a victory – defeating Slytherin would not only put the red and gold on top for the Quidditch Cup and House Cup, but would also have the desired effect of pissing off Regulus and, even better, his parents. And he couldn’t help but notice how caught up in it all Laura was getting, as well – before this year, he’d never realised how big a Quidditch nut she really was, but now he could scarcely not notice.

The day finally came and all the sixth-years wandered down to the pitch together, though without James of course, who’d left ages earlier to prepare with the rest of the team. Lily was looking nervous, Sirius noticed, and he wondered just how long it would take for her to finally admit she did fancy James. Something had definitely happened there since the Hogsmeade thing last week.

Frankly, Sirius wasn’t sure how he wanted that to go. He’d lose James – not completely, but he might as well, he knew what happened at the start of relationships and he’d not see James for about a month – but then again Prongs had been wanting that for so long it was hard to begrudge him. And maybe he could distract himself with, ooh, to pick a name at random, Laura? Once she got over that creep Aubrey, of course …

Anyway, they all climbed into the stands and once they found their seats Sirius was pleased Laura ended up next to him. Maybe he could even claim to be squashed and press up against her for a while, he liked feeling her legs against his. Not that he had much experience of that … yet. Give it time, though. Of course he’d prefer it if they weren’t encased in jeans, but beggars can’t be choosers can they? He was disquieted to see Mary on her other side, though: in the wrong circumstances, she could even spend the whole game talking to Mary instead of to him.

This resolved itself rather nicely, though, when the empty spot next to him was taken up by a couple of gigglers. His initial awkwardness soon gave way to what had to be the most brilliant idea he’d had in, oh it must have been hours at least. The fact that two gigglers had squashed into a space only meant for one just made it better.

He leaned in close to Laura and got a whiff of her hair – whatever shampoo she used had a very distinctive scent, and he’d worked out where he knew it from now: his amortentia at the start of the year. “Uh, Laura, do you mind if we swap places?”

She looked at him, obviously confused. “Why?”

Suppressing a smile, he just jerked his head towards the gigglers. She was bound to recognise them, they’d been the ones who were so irritating during that detention they’d shared before Christmas. He saw recognition and understanding flash through her eyes. “Oh. Yeah, sure.”

They stood up and swapped seats, and he used the opportunity to put a hand on the small of her back as they manoeuvred around each other. She was pressed up against him and he could feel her breasts against his stomach, the top of her head just brushing his nose. He shouldn’t have done this, he realised too late, it was just too much of a tease and if she didn’t sit down soon she might notice something stirring in his pants.

And maybe she did. In any case she was rather red when she finally did sit down, and he was horrified to think he’d made her uncomfortable, especially after what that prick Aubrey had put her through. But maybe, he thought, if he didn’t mention it she might realise that he wasn’t about to try anything or do anything that would make her feel awkward. It was worth a shot, in any case.

“Thanks for that,” he said quietly to her, leaning forward a bit so she wouldn’t notice how she’d affected him. And just for standing up against him like that, in a way that wasn’t even remotely sexual. He wasn’t sure he liked how much power she had over him, even though she seemed oblivious to it. He dreaded to think what she could do to him if she knew. “She was rubbing up against my leg,” he went on somewhat belatedly. “It was a bit uncomfortable.”

He realised there was probably a bit of irony in that, considering he was now rubbing up against Laura’s leg. Pot? Meet Kettle. Was he turning into his own variety of giggler?

In any case she didn’t seem to make the connection. “Right. Though, to be fair, there’s not much room. Maybe she wasn’t doing it deliberately.”

_Yeah, right_ , thought Sirius. _Like I’m not doing it deliberately right now_. He knew a come-on when he saw one. He decided to play along, though. “Well, yes, that’s certainly possible,” he agreed, “but if I have to have someone’s leg up against mine, I’d rather it …” He trailed off, realising too late what he’d been about to say – “I’d rather it was yours”.

“If it was someone you actually don’t mind being around,” she said, finishing his abandoned sentence in a way that, while correct, wasn’t quite what he’d had in mind. “Yeah, I can understand that.”

So she’d misunderstood, though he wasn’t sure whether that was deliberate or not. That might depend on whether she’d noticed any bulges when they’d been pressed up against each other, and he wasn’t game to try to read that much into her expression. He didn’t always trust his own judgement as far as Laura was concerned.

Anyway, just then the game started, and he was grateful he was the only one Laura had to talk to now as he saw her throw a few glances in Mary’s direction. He could well have been ignored all game if they hadn’t swapped seats, and it was clear Mary didn’t need her support anyway, she and Lily could lean on each other. And he had her all to himself.

He kept watching her out of the corner of his eye, but she was engrossed in the game and so didn’t notice when he moved just half an inch closer to her, or rested his arm on the back of the bench just behind her. It was only Charlotte and Moony behind them, Moony wouldn’t say anything and Charlotte would be too wrapped up with being with Moony she probably wouldn’t notice. Though it occurred to him that Moony might be wrapped up with being with Charlotte as well.

Eventually the Snitch appeared, and for a second it looked like Reg might get to it first. He saw it before the Gryffindor Seeker and was on a much faster broom – damn their parents for always buying the best of everything! Sirius heard Laura catch her breath as the two Seekers battled to get to the tiny golden ball, but just when it looked like Reg had it covered a welcome Bludger appeared and hit him right on the hand.

Typical Regulus, though, he just re-adjusted his position on the broom and went looking for the Snitch again. His hand was obviously broken but he just put on that blank face Sirius knew so well, the one that meant ‘No one’s going to know how much that just hurt’. Both brothers had that face perfected, having practiced it so many times as children when they experienced their parents’ wrath – Sirius admittedly more so than Regulus, though the younger boy did have his own issues with their mother and father.

“Too proud for his own good,” he muttered to Laura, relishing the opportunity to get closer to her. “He should just cut his losses and get that hand fixed.”

She shook her head, hitting him in the face with her hair. “They’d have to forfeit. They don’t have a reserve Seeker. And what Slytherin would abandon the opportunity to take Gryffindor off the top of the pile?”

She definitely had a point. “Particularly him. He’d lose an opportunity to gloat at me.”

He noticed her watching him out of the corner of her eye, and wasn’t sure how to take it. Had she guessed his secret? Her expression was one of confusion and reflection, which could mean anything. He wasn’t sure if he wanted her to know how much he liked her just yet – she wasn’t fully over Aubrey yet and he didn’t want to be a rebound snog. Or hopefully much more than just a snog, but he didn’t want to get ahead of himself there. Fortunately before she could come to too many conclusions the game started up again and it looked like the Snitch had reappeared, so she turned her attention back to that.

The match had the outcome they all wanted – the Gryffindor Seeker (what was her name again? Penelope Anderson? Something like that) was soon soaring above them with the Snitch in her hand and Reg looked like he was ready to Crucio her, but he couldn’t complain – Slytherin had been beaten fair and square. They all stood up and cheered, and Sirius noticed Laura giving Charlotte behind her a big hug, and then Moony, and then she turned to him, her eyes shining.

Well, he wasn’t about to let go of this opportunity. He pulled her towards him and held her tightly, feeling a little awkward due to the absurdity of the situation – if she had any idea how much he was savouring this she’d probably run a mile. It was all he could do to not lean down and kiss her, and even if he didn’t lean in for a snog he was having awful trouble not planting one on her forehead, which was tantalisingly level with his lips. _No, Padfoot, settle down_ , he thought, and with great reluctance he forced himself to let go of her, probably a bit later than he should have done if this was just a normal hug to celebrate a sporting triumph.

After that, he wasn’t quite sure how to behave around her. He couldn’t help but feel that he’d done too much, that the opportunity of holding her to him had gone awry and she’d worked out how he felt. And he certainly didn’t trust himself around her any more – every time he looked at her he just wanted to pull her to him again, feel her up against him and her arms around him, and maybe finally feel those lips on his and explore her mouth with his tongue. But it wasn’t the time, last week’s trip to Hogsmeade had proven she wasn’t over Aubrey yet, and he couldn’t risk it if she wasn’t ready. Like Prongs had said, if he tried something now and the timing was wrong then he might ruin his chances permanently. Better to avoid her entirely, he thought, at least until he could get those hormones under control.

The problem with that strategy was there was to be a party in the common room that night, to celebrate the Cup victory. And as James’ best friend, he couldn’t exactly opt out of it. Equally, Laura was certain to be there, probably looking even more stunning than usual if she did what she usually did and got dressed up. So they’d both be in the same room, in a confined space with food and, even more dangerously, alcohol.

Sure enough, when he saw her come down the stairs that night after supper his knees nearly gave way. And this was just for a fitted blouse and jeans and a bit of makeup – he dreaded to think how he’d react if she was wearing something skimpy. Not that she would, though, he thought, she wasn’t that type. Martha Hornby, yes, but Laura, no. But that wasn’t to say he couldn’t imagine it – and that mental image had got him through many a sleepless night. Anyway she looked like she’d palled up with Charlotte for the evening … maybe it wouldn’t be too obvious if he just tried to keep away from them?

Sirius was pleased that his job was to work the bar, because at least that way he had a definite purpose and something to do with his hands, though he was careful not to drink too much himself in case he lost control or something.  The trouble then was that it was too easy to get lost in his own thoughts and forget to pay attention to what was going on around him.

“You all right, Padfoot?” The question brought him out from his stupor and he looked up to see Remus, giving him a look that was half quizzical half smiling. “Something bothering you?”

“What? Oh, no, nothing,” he said quickly, grabbing a bottle of Firewhisky to pour himself a drink.  “I’m fine.”

“Could have fooled me,” Remus said, a smile still dancing around his lips. “Or am I imagining that you keep running away from Laura?”

Damn. Had he been that obvious? “You’re imagining things, Moony,” he said almost coldly. “I’m doing nothing of the sort.”

“Right.” Remus was clearly unconvinced. “Sure. If you say so.”

Sirius scowled. “Did you want a drink, mate, or are you just here to have a go at me?”

Remus backtracked quickly. “A drink, of course,” he said. “Firewhisky. If that’s not too much trouble.”

He poured the drink and looked pointedly at his friend, who got the hint and took off. Sirius sighed, wishing he was more in control of himself tonight, and resolved to be less transparent. After all, if Moony had worked out what he was doing, it was possible Laura might.

When he wasn’t at the bar he made a point of spending time with Prongs or Moony or Wormtail, which he thought should keep him occupied enough to not ogle her too much. Though that went a bit pear-shaped when Prongs disappeared to talk to Lily, his face hopeful, and Moony was watching Charlotte for a lot of the time, which wasn’t much help because she was with Laura. Despite what he’d told Remus, he was very keen to avoid spending time with her, because he definitely didn’t trust himself to behave if she was too close. In the end it all became too difficult and he headed upstairs to bed not all that long after midnight.

Maybe it was a good thing it was almost the end of the school year, he thought; he’d have the summer away from her and perhaps at the start of seventh year she’d be over Aubrey and give him a chance. Maybe she wouldn’t be too revolted by that idea – he was aware he had something of a reputation, not all of it justified, and he didn’t want her thinking she was just another conquest, just another girl who might be willing but wasn’t a giggler. Maybe she would believe him if he told her how he felt.

Maybe, if he gave her time, it just might work out.


	9. Moving out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> July 1977

Sirius looked around his new flat. It was tiny, and a mess – boxes of books and clothes strewn everywhere, but not enough household-y type stuff like pots and pans, or towels, or dishes he would need if he was going to live there.

“Good thing Andromeda’s coming over tomorrow,” he said, surveying the scene. He didn’t even know where to start with something like this. Moving out had seemed like such a good idea, but now he was a little apprehensive about what it actually meant.

“And Mum,” James added, sitting on the sofa with his feet up on the coffee table, a butterbeer in his hand. “She’s putting together a care package for you. Food, sheets, towels, plates, knives, forks, the works.”

“She is?” Sirius was surprised – not that Mrs Potter would do something like that, but that he hadn’t known about it. James wasn’t exactly known for his ability to keep things like that secret.

“Didn’t we tell you?” This time it was James’ turn to look surprised. “She’s been planning this for months, ever since you left Grimmauld Place. Knew you wouldn’t hang around for any longer than you had to, but you wouldn’t have a clue what to do once you actually left. It should be here by tomorrow I should think.”

“She’s a good sort, your mum,” Sirius admitted, plonking himself down on the armchair. It was slightly lumpy and not particularly comfortable, but it was his and it would do to start with.

“You need more cupboard space, though,” James was saying, looking around critically. “You know, to dump your boxes in until you feel like sorting them out.”

“Why not just leave them out?” Sirius asked. It wasn’t like he had anything else to do this summer.

“Because if you do get Laura back here, you’ll want it looking tidy,” James pointed out, trying unsuccessfully to hide a smile.

“Good point,” Sirius admitted, looking around at the mess once more. “Maybe it’s just as well she was busy today.”

He hadn’t quite been able to believe it when she’d walked into his elevator at the Ministry. He and James had just been talking about her – or, rather, James had been ribbing him about her – and then the doors had opened and there she’d been. The look on her face had given him something to think about for ages ... her eyes had lit up and her cheeks had coloured slightly, which if he thought about it could possibly mean she’d been as happy to see him as he’d been to see her. Then again, though, her conversation had been guarded, like she didn’t really care, or didn’t want to get his hopes up. And she hadn’t looked back once as she left – he knew that, because if she had he might have gone to her and said something. Sighing, he took another swig of butterbeer and stared out the window to the balcony. Why did girls have to be so confusing?

“Speaking of not having any gear,” James went on, “were you planning on eating tonight?”

Sirius looked over his shoulder at the empty kitchen. “Take-away,” he suggested. “I think there’s a place that does it around here somewhere.”

“You’re going to starve, mate,” James grinned. “Either that or go broke from eating out all the time.”

“I’ll learn to cook,” Sirius said irritably. “If nothing else I’m sure your mum will insist on teaching me.”

“Yeah, that’s true enough,” James said, leaning back again. “Now, did I see a pub on my way here? What do you say to going out after supper to celebrate your new-found freedom?”

Sirius grinned, relaxing again now the focus was off his non-existent housekeeping skills. “Couldn’t have put it better myself.”

****

The pub was noisy on a Friday night, with a Muggle band playing in the corner and what seemed like a hundred different types of alcohol on offer. Having Confunded the landlord to convince him they were of age, the two boys settled themselves at the bar and started working their way through the selection.

“Not bad, this one,” Sirius said appreciatively, savouring a particularly expensive Scotch whisky. “Refill, mate?”

“Definitely,” James agreed, surreptitiously pulling out his wand to do a Refilling Charm on each of their glasses. “I wouldn’t mind sticking with this one all night.”

“We might want to sit somewhere less conspicuous, then,” Sirius pointed out with a grin. “The landlord is bound to notice eventually that we’re not buying any more.”

On their way to a more subtle location they were bumped into by two giggling girls, not much older than they were, and upset their drinks. From the way the girls behaved, though, it was clear this was no accident.

“I’m so sorry,” the first girl cooed, standing far too close to Sirius for his liking. “Oh, you spilled your drink! Here, let me get you another one.” She smelled of cheap beer and cigarettes and it was all he could do to not step away, if only because there was nowhere to step because the other girl had cornered James.

“Fine,” he said irritably. “It was Glenfiddich.” _Now let her baulk at what it cost_ , he thought uncharitably. He really wasn’t in the mood for this.

James had managed to extricate himself from the other girl and the two of them found a table near the corner. It was darker and quieter and they were able to hear each other without shouting, which was probably a good thing if they wanted to keep their voices.

“Looks like we’ve acquired some more gigglers,” James said as he sat down. “Though if they want to keep buying us whisky maybe we should let them.” He grinned across the table.

“Yes, just what I wanted,” Sirius said sarcastically. “I reckon they’ve been getting pointers from Vablatsky, too – subtle as a brick, that was.”

“You really should let yourself get used to it,” James said, still grinning. “You’re a bit of a catch, you know.”

“Yeah, right.” Sirius’ sarcasm hadn’t lessened at all. “Though if I’m so great, why hasn’t the one person I want to notice that not done it yet?” He frowned at his now-empty glass and looked up at James, trying to hide a smile. “Frankly, mate, I think you’re more of a catch. You know, smart, good at sport, sole heir to the Potter fortune …”

“Hilarious,” James said dryly. “Okay, point taken. And look, here are our drinks back …” He looked up at the girls now approaching their table and smiled.

Sirius found himself smiling too, more at the irony of the situation than anything else. The two girls could almost be stand-ins for Lily and Laura, if the lighting was dim enough. One of the girls had Laura’s colouring and bore a superficial, if crude, resemblance to her; the other was a redhead with a feisty smile. Sure, their hair was the wrong length and their figures not quite right, and he certainly couldn’t imagine either Laura or Lily with a cigarette hanging out of their mouth, but the resemblance was certainly there.

James, too, had clearly noticed the likenesses, and was trying to suppress some laughter behind his hand. His eyes were sparkling, though, and the redhead obviously thought that was directed at her as she started coming on to him even more obviously than she had previously. The brunette, who was the one who had intentionally bumped Sirius earlier, took that as her cue to focus her attention on him. It was just like the gigglers only with alcohol.

Sirius quickly downed his drink and stood up, as though about to head to the bar to get another. “James?” he asked pointedly. “Come to get some more drinks?” And then, thinking he might as well do this properly, he asked not-Laura what she wanted, as though he intended to actually go through with it.

“Let me guess,” James said as they headed to the bar, “you want to do a runner?”

Sirius looked at him scornfully. “Don’t you?”

James hesitated, and Sirius stopped walking to look at him more closely. “Yes … and no,” James said eventually. “Look,” he went on, seeing Sirius’ face, “normally I’d be out of here like a shot. Too much like hard work, and they’re not all that pretty. But you have to have noticed who they look like.”

“Superficially,” Sirius agreed, “but no more than that. Why?”

“I was thinking,” James said. “Yes, it did hurt,” he added quickly, before Sirius could interject. “But seriously, mate, what do you think about getting a bit more experience tonight?”

Sirius stared at him. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Your last shag,” James went on, ignoring Sirius’ objection, “was Dione Turpin more than a year ago. Right?

Sirius nodded slowly. “So?”

“And mine was last summer with that girl from the village,” James said. “Which means it’s been a while for both of us.”

Sirius wasn’t convinced. “So?” he repeated.

“So, when – and yes, I mean WHEN – it gets to that point with Laura, don’t you want to have a bit more of a recent experience than that? You don’t want to disappoint her, do you?”

So that was where James was going with this. “Are you sure this is what you want?” Sirius asked shrewdly. He was sure James would feel like this was cheating on the spirit of Lily, if not Lily herself.

“Normally, I wouldn’t even think of it,” James admitted. “But the likenesses are too good to ignore. And honestly, mate, those girls are really hot for it. Think about it. What harm can it do?”

Sirius looked back to their table, where the girls were watching them. Not-Lily waved and whispered something to her friend, and they both started giggling again. Narrowing his eyes, Sirius looked at the brunette again. The resemblance was probably enough, if they stayed somewhere dark and he didn’t think too much about it …

“Yes, okay, why not,” he finally agreed. “Like you said, it’ll be good to get the practice in.” And after all, a drought was a drought and he didn’t dislike the idea of breaking it. He looked at James and pulled some Muggle cash out of his pocket. “Right, so what did those girls want to drink again?”


	10. Sirius: The best laid plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> September 1977

“I just don’t know we’re going to have the team to do it this year,” James says, shaking his head. “With Anna and Marcus gone ... I dunno, they’re going to be hard shoes to fill.” He’s looking at the names of people who have signed up for Quidditch tryouts this year and doesn’t seem too excited by them.

“You had some good people trying out last year,” Remus points out. “I’m sure there are some of those who’ll come back and try again. They won’t be of that standard, no, but then again who is when they first start?”

Prongs nods, somewhat placated. I wonder whether I should say what’s on my mind – it could be a good suggestion, but then again I know how they’re going to react. In the end I decided to go ahead anyway ... the potential benefits would be worth it.

“How about Laura?”

Prongs turns to look at me, half a smile on his face. “You did say she was a crack shot, didn’t you?”

I nod, thankful he didn’t take the bait. “Hit a bubotuber swelling from fifteen yards without even looking. She should be able to do amazing things with a Quaffle.”

Well, if that’s true,” James says, letting his voice trail away. “Thanks, Padfoot. I’ll ask her.”

“Good idea,” Moony says. “She’ll never come to tryouts off her own bat.”

“And if she does make the team,” James adds, looking slyly at me, “I guess you’ll suddenly make a habit of attending training sessions?”

I look at the wall behind him. “Don’t know what you mean, mate,” I say lightly. “Why would I do that?”

“Actually,” Moony says, frowning at me, “you might want to have a talk to her sooner rather than later, Padfoot. I heard Dearborn talking about her the other day, and I think you’ve got competition.”

Great. Just what I need. More pressure.  Fortunately Prongs comes to the rescue. “Easy way around that,” he says. “We’ll just ask her if she’s going out with him. Her reaction should tell us what she thinks of the idea.”

I stare at him incredulously. “Since when did _you_ think of things like that?” Let’s face it, he’s never been known for his insight with things like this.

Moony seems to agree. “I was about to ask the same thing. Maybe you really have grown up this year.”

Prongs says nothing but looks rather proud of himself. “Best if someone else asks her about Dearborn, though,” he says, sounding very business-like. “If I’m going to ask her about the Quidditch, that is. Moony, you up for it?”

“Why Moony?” Wormtail looks confused.

James just grins at him. “Because we can’t trust Padfoot with something like that,” he says. “Probably fall in a heap on the floor before he can get the words out.”

“Thanks, mate,” I say sarcastically, recognising he’s right but not wanting to admit it. “Appreciate the support.”

“It’s settled, then,” Prongs says. “Best be sooner rather than later, too, with tryouts this Friday. How about breakfast tomorrow?”

“Fine,” I say noncommittally, hoping the others don’t realise how much I’m now looking forward to the next morning. Really, this is getting ridiculous. Any excuse to talk to her and I’m all over the place. Maybe Moony’s right and I need to just ask her – at least then I’ll know one way or the other.

Anyway, the next morning we’re lucky enough that there are some spare seats by Laura and Mary at the Gryffindor table so we file in and take them, me on the other side so I don’t do anything stupid like struggle to keep my hands off her.

It starts off innocuously enough, with Prongs asking her if she’s coming to Quidditch tryouts on Friday. And she protests that she’s no good at it and would be useless on the team, which is ridiculous – I’ve seen how well she throws. So I say that, trying to prod her along a bit. If nothing else it keeps her talking and I do love that accent. The conversation moves on to who her team is (Caerphilly, I should have guessed) and Welsh geography of all things before Prongs steers it back to the point.

“So why don’t you play?”

Wormtail jumps in before she can answer, adding weight to Prongs’ argument. “Yeah, you can throw, you can dodge, what more do you need?”

She looks a little annoyed. “Well, yes, but I can’t do either of them very well if I’m on a broomstick.”

Rats. I’d forgotten that. She’d said something about having balance problems when she was flying. Feeling like a right idiot, I concentrate on getting some more scrambled eggs. Wormtail, on the other hand, had no such qualms. “How about Keeper then? You can keep both hands on the broom for that, and the spot’s open.”

Prongs is nodding. “Yeah, you don’t have to worry about catching Quaffles or holding Beater’s bats if you’re Keeper. And Marcus has left so there’s no incumbent.”

"Sorry, but still no,” she says, shaking her head. “Couldn’t play anyway - Dad’s really keen for me to do as well as possible during NEWTs, so he doesn’t want me distracted by anything. Meaning, no extra-curricular stuff. Bea had the same rule.”

Prongs sees my expression and, fortunately, decides not to push it. “Right. If you’re that set on not playing, I won’t argue with you. I’ll let you off, just this once.”

She keeps talking and I have to remind myself not to get carried away by the Welsh lilt and concentrate on what she’s actually saying – which is a good thing because it turns out to be worth listening to. Okay, it starts off with something about her broom being in pieces in her trunk still, but then it’s astonishing. “I haven’t had a chance to reassemble it since we got back to school, and I don’t know I’d have time before Friday,” she says nonchalantly, like it’s no big deal. “Not if I’m going to do it properly.”

What?!?! She can put brooms together? Why didn’t I know that??? This is pretty big news, and I can see Prongs just about salivating at it. He’s going to want her around even independent of me, if she can really do that.

In the end I find my voice and try to compliment her in a way that’s not too obvious. “I didn’t know you were a broomstick whiz. That is to say, not many people can just take their broom apart and put it back together again.” Which is putting it mildly but it gets the point across.

Prongs jumps in too. “Even I have trouble with that sometimes,” he says. “It never seems to fly so well afterwards.”

Mary Macdonald seems to be having a field day with this. “I imagine there’s a lo’ ye don’ know aboot us,” she says. “Laura here’s no’ jus’ a pretty face.”

Well, clearly not. Not that I’d thought that anyway, of course. I’m a little taken aback by her response, though, which is something along the lines of “not even that”, before she looks back at James and starts talking him through broom maintenance. Really? That’s how she sees herself? Or is this a joke with Macdonald I’m not privy to? In any case I have to work that out before I can say anything, because if she really does think that then she might not believe I fancy her.

Bugger. This just gets more and more complicated. I hope Moony brings up the Dearborn thing soon because we need to nip that in the bud – I don’t want her saying yes to him just because she thinks there aren’t any other options. Then again, maybe she actually fancies the bloke ... after all, she found Aubrey attractive for some reason. Not wanting to think about that, I tune back into the conversation to hear her tell Prongs her dad has banned her from any extra-curricular activities this year because he wants her to do well in her exams so if nothing else that’s an excuse for her not to join the Quidditch team. Geez, he really has been putting pressure on her about that, by the sounds of things. It’s kind of nice to see her sticking to her word.

Finally Moony changes the subject. “By the way, we hear you’re dating Caradoc Dearborn. Were you ever planning on telling us?”

Nice. No blabber, just straight to the point. Moony’s good like that. I watch her keenly to see her reaction, which initially is one of surprise. “Am I? That’s weird, you’d think I would have noticed.” I smile at that – it’s something I like about her, the way she puts things. Then she turns to Moony. “And why would I tell you something like that anyway?”

Oops. Maybe we’ve overstepped the mark here. Fortunately Prongs is thinking on his feet and manages to cover. “Because we’re your friends. But do we take you to mean you’re _not_ seeing Dearborn?”

She shrugs. “Not that I know of. Where’d you hear that one?”

I breathe out – she looks completely unimpressed by the very idea, which says to me she’s not likely to accept even if he does ask. And that’s a relief because physically, he and I are almost complete opposites. If she fancied him, then I’d have next to no chance. “Not telling. But that makes things easier.”

I swear inwardly. Did I really say that? And to make matters worse, she picks up on it. Who knew she was so observant first thing in the morning?

"How so?” she asks, though fortunately she’s looking at all of us rather than just at me. Maybe she didn’t really pick up on my slip-up as much as I’d thought.

Again, Prongs comes to the rescue. “It means we don’t have to threaten to curse him into next week if he mucks you around, after what happened with Aubrey,” he says. He really is on form today, which is a relief considering how much I keep stuffing up – I make a mental note to thank him once we’re out of here.

Laura clearly thinks this is just a friendship thing and gestures towards Mary Macdonald.  “I don’t see you being so protective of Mary here,” she says.

I stare at her, surprised. Why would that be an issue? “But she’s with Ogden,” I point out redundantly. “He’s fine, nothing wrong with him.” Which, I realise too late, implies there’s something wrong with Dearborn. Of course there is, there are plenty of things wrong with him, but even I can recognise that if he wasn’t after Laura then I’d probably have no objections to him at all. It’s a bit of a worry, how one-dimensional I’m getting.

Mary’s running with this, though I can’t work out if she’s being genuine or taking the piss.  I’m starting to get the impression with her that either option is equally possible. “No’ any more, we brok’ up. Ye havn’ hear’ any rumours aboot my love life?”

Prongs is doing pretty well dealing with this unexpected tangent, especially since we all know how vague he normally is this time of the day. “Uh – no,” he says easily. “Just Laura’s. And Dearborn’s. Though if our information’s wrong, we don’t have to challenge her sanity for dating a prefect.”

He grins across the table at me and I know what he’s thinking – we don’t have to challenge her sanity for dating anyone who’s not me. Which sounds really big-headed of me but this is Prongs we’re talking about – he’s as loyal a friend as you can get. And I appreciate the support.

Anyway, Laura misses that exchange entirely and instead has a go at James for telling her who she can and can’t go out with. “You’re a fine one to talk,” she grins. “Head Boy – and Quidditch captain, I might add – who’s pining after the Head Girl. And you have a problem with _me_ dating an authority figure?”

Fond as I am of Prongs, that was right on the mark. I’m struggling not to laugh and in the process manage to knock my fork onto the floor. Ducking down to pick it up, I hear him taking it in his stride.

“Doesn’t matter anyway,” he says smoothly. “If it’s not happening, we don’t need to do anything about it.”

I find my fork pretty quickly and pick it up, but I have to admit I don’t mind the prospect of being this close to Laura’s legs so I prolong my stay beneath the table. And at least she can’t see my face so that’s another benefit.

“Well, it’s definitely not happening,” Laura says.  “While there’s been a lot to take in since term started, I’m sure I would remember if I’d been snogging someone on a regular basis.” Underneath the table, I wince at this – the idea of her snogging someone else is something I really don’t want to contemplate. So I breathe a sigh of relief when I hear her say, “Especially Caradoc – he’s really not my type.” Finally, a good sign. Like I said, he and I are pretty much opposites so that’s definitely good news. I grin at her knees, directly in front of me, until I hear her next sentence. “Besides, I’m not allowed to go out with anyone this year anyway, so it’s a bit of a moot point.”

WHAT?!?!?! Trying to get back upright to make sure I heard that right, I hit my head hard on the edge of the table on the way up. She’s not allowed to go out with anyone? Does that mean I’ve missed out entirely???

Fortunately I don’t have to query what I just heard because Wormtail gets in first. “What do you mean, you’re not allowed to go out with anyone?”

She just shrugs, like it’s no big deal. “Same as the Quidditch. No extra-curricular activities. That includes boyfriends.” She’s just ruined my year and she shrugs like it’s nothing. I can’t believe it.

“Ye didn’ know?” Mary asks. “An’ ye call yerselves her friends!”

Moony tries to cover. “Well, if no one tells us something, we can’t reasonably be expected to know it,” he says.  “Laura here obviously didn’t think it was worth mentioning.”

She still seems completely unconcerned, oblivious to how crucial this is. “Slipped my mind.”

“You’re not going to keep to that, though, are you?” Prongs asks, saying aloud what I’m dying to know. If she takes this ruling seriously, I’m screwed.

“Yeah, how would he find out anyway?” I ask, pretending to be concentrating on what’s on my plate like this isn’t the most important news of the year. “It’s not like he’s got any spies here, and what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” In other words, please ignore it. Please?

I’m still not looking at her so I can’t see her face, but I can hear how blasé she is about this. She has NO idea of the impact of this whole thing. “Well, I’ll cross that bridge if and when I come to it,” she says carelessly. “Though I don’t anticipate it will be much of an issue anyway.”

This time I do look up at her. She seriously thinks that? Someone as amazing as her honestly thinks no one would be asking her out? I can’t believe it. Fortunately her attention seems to be taken by Prongs, who seems to be having a similar reaction, deliberately knocking his fork onto the floor and, when he ducks down to pick it up, pretty much making the table shake by how much he’s laughing.

There’s no trace of irony on her face, though, and she just looks confused as she watches Prongs go through his little charade of pretending he hasn’t been laughing. “And, on the bright side,” she says, “at least I won’t have to go into Madam Puddifoot’s again!”

That I can agree with. “Hear, hear,” I say with a groan. “Clio dragged me in there at the start of the year. It was appalling!”   _And can I just say how happy I am you agree with that assessment?_ I look quickly at Prongs to make sure I didn’t just say that last bit out loud, but he looks unaffected so I think I didn’t.

She shudders in agreement. “Wasn’t it though. Chintz and floral and lacy doilies everywhere – it was like going to Grandma’s but without the good cakes, and far more claustrophobic.”

No, I definitely didn’t say it out loud, not if she’s talking like that. Good.

I want to keep this conversation going, maybe on to what she does like on dates so I can file that away to use later on, but Mary Macdonald makes noises that suggest it’s time for them to leave and Laura follows her lead. Damn. I never even got a clear answer from her as to whether she’s going to follow that ridiculous rule of no boyfriends this year – which means if I do ask her out and she says no, I’m not going to know if she’s hamstrung by the rule or if she doesn’t like me that way and is letting me down gently. Double damn. Why do things have to be so confusing?

“Don’t look so glum, Padfoot,” Moony says quietly as we follow Prongs down the table so he can try to chat up Lily Evans. “You should have seen her face when she was talking about Dearborn – she actually shuddered at the idea.”

I allow myself to smile. “Really?” That’s even better than I’d thought. “Why did I not see that?”

“You were under the table at the time,” he says. “Probably ogling her ankles or something.”

That’s a little too close to the mark so I choose to ignore it. “She really doesn’t like him, then, huh.” It’s far more reassuring than the news she’s not going to be seeing anyone – at all – this year.

“Seems not,” he agrees. “And look, don’t get yourself too worked up about that rule, either. She never said outright that she’s going to be following it, did she?”

I think about that. “I guess not,” I admit eventually, thankful I’m far enough away from Lily and the other girls, even now, that they can’t overhear this conversation.

“So, don’t worry about it,” he says. “Play it by ear. You could be surprised.”

I pick up a piece of toast and chew on it, thinking that over. He could be right, I realise. You just never know.

“Cheers, Moony,” I say with a grin, settling down remarkably quickly. “Now, what do we have first up today? Transfiguration? Maybe we should think about getting ready.”

 


	11. Worth the wait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 1977

She led him out of the common room, feeling more nervous than she’d ever remembered feeling before.  What if it went wrong?  What if he’d gone off her or something, and that was why he’d been so reserved this term?  It was almost too frightening to contemplate.  
  
Going into the first empty classroom she saw, she turned around to face him.  He looked wonderful.  Hazel eyes gazing at her from behind his glasses, hair sticking up just a little, a look of confusion on his face … but what a face!  Why had it taken her so long to realise how attractive he was?  
  
She was happy to admit to herself that her interest in Quidditch, which had really intensified over the past year or so, was due solely to him – if he hadn’t been in the team then she wouldn’t have found it nearly so fascinating.  She couldn’t help but admire his play, though … it was like he and the broom were one and his movements were so smooth they were almost poetic.  Or fluid.  In any case she could lose herself entirely watching him play, and try to share one of the things he loved most.  
  
She had found herself drawn to him more on the ground, too.  Yes, he might muck around in classes a bit, but he knew his stuff and if he was ever called on to answer a question he always got it right.  He had a clear way of thinking, too, that she appreciated – he could always explain how he reached a certain conclusion quickly and concisely, and in a way made it seem obvious to everyone else.  (Except Transfiguration, which he seemed to have an unnatural aptitude for, so much so that he just knew the answers instinctively.)  Yes, she couldn’t deny he was smart and had a really good handle on their schoolwork.   And she liked smart men.  She couldn’t imagine herself with someone who was her intellectual inferior – she needed to be able to talk things through with people and it was imperative that her companion would be able to at least keep pace with her.  The fact she found him easy to talk to, and he made her laugh so effortlessly, only increased the attraction.  
  
And he was handsome.  Tall and dark, with enough self confidence to maintain a presence in any room, yet not so much he was a pain to be around.  (And yes, she realised that had changed over the past year or two.  He’d grown up, and he was so much more appealing for it!!)  A good build, too – the years of Quidditch had given him nice definition on his chest and shoulders.  She knew this because she’d spied him changing into his Quidditch robe once, outside the changing room, because he’d been running late for the game.  Off somewhere with the other boys, she’d realised.  And she had been wanting a better look ever since.  
  
Finally, he was loyal.  She had never been able to fault his strong friendship with the other boys, even if she didn’t really understand it.  But he would defend them, stick up for any of them under any circumstances, and she understood loyalty like that wasn’t as common as it should be. Perhaps it blinded him to their faults but she could live with that, because if he displayed that kind of loyalty towards her, then she would never have cause for complaint.  
  
Yes, it seemed James was everything she wanted.  An equal, a partner, someone she could look up to and respect yet have no qualms saying when he was out of line for any reason.  A man she wouldn’t hesitate to introduce to her family.  A man even Petunia would have trouble not liking or getting along with.  And a man with the added bonuses of a hint of mischief, a dash of earnestness. looks, sporting ability ... and money.  
  
_Money_.  She hated that such a tawdry thing would matter to her, but her family had never had a lot of it and the idea of being financially secure was certainly appealing.  But she knew she would still be doing this if he were broke.  She no longer had any control over herself in this matter.  She had to do it.  
  
He broke the silence, interrupting her thoughts.  “What’s up, Lily?”  
  
She loved that he called her by her first name now – one reason she had hesitated for all those years was his insistence on calling her “Evans”.  She quite liked her name, and hearing it from his mouth almost sent shivers down her spine.  It was a good sign, she thought, starting to smile nervously.  
  
He, too, looked a little nervous, like he might have an inkling of what she was about to do.  She considered trying to speak, to articulate what she wanted, but that felt like it would be too awkward, and she wasn’t sure what she would say anyway.  If she was honest with herself, she wasn’t even one hundred percent sure WHAT she wanted.  
  
Aside from him, of course.  
  
Still smiling nervously, she took a deep breath and, standing on tip toes, put her arms around his neck, her face moving closer to his.  Fortunately he seemed to take the hint, and before she knew it his lips were on hers, his arms around her, pulling her towards him with such an urgency she hadn’t been expecting.  Maybe he hadn’t gone off her after all, she thought, relishing the feeling of his hands on her body and his tongue in her mouth.  Losing herself in the moment, she pulled him even closer, just wanting it to last forever.  
  
_Why did I wait so long?_ she asked herself eventually, when her brain had once again focused on reality.  _Why could I not have said something earlier?_  
  
The truth, of course, was any earlier she wouldn’t have been ready, and she certainly wouldn’t have felt confident enough to take the first step.  She had needed to have him back off a little bit to make her realise what she’d been missing, that she had actually _wanted_ his interest.  She just didn’t realise how much she wanted it – relied on it, almost – until it was withdrawn.  
  
He pulled away oh-so-slightly and murmured her name before kissing her once again, almost like he was worried that if he stopped for any length of time then she might tell him it was all a horrible mistake or something.  Smiling a little to herself, she knew there was no chance of that.  They’d made it this far; they weren’t going back now.  She would tell him that, eventually … once this kiss was over.  Or maybe the next one.  Or the one after that …  
  
No, this was way more important than talking.  They could talk later.  Right now, all she wanted to do was to try to work out what he tasted of.  Treacle tart?  She had seen him eating it at supper, it could be that. _Let me just check one more time …_  
  
His glasses knocked against her skin and his hands were a little clumsy at times, but she didn’t care.  She had been waiting all her life for this, she realised – the other boys she had kissed were just that, boys.  He, however, had matured: he was a man, and it showed.  Almost urgently he pushed her backwards until she was leaning against the wall next to the door, his tongue busy in her mouth, his hands exploring her curves.  He had been waiting a long time for this – longer than she had – and all those years of patience were coming out.  
  
Finally, after what could well have been hours, she pulled away from him ever so slightly and smiled.  “Thank you.”  
  
He smiled back, though he looked confused.  “What for?”  
  
“For waiting,” she whispered.  “I’m sorry I took so long to come around.”  
  
His expression moved from confused to uncomfortable, like he wasn’t used to talking about this sort of thing.  “I thought you might be worth waiting for,” he said eventually, his face barely two inches from her own.  “And it looks like I was right.”  
  
He kissed her again, and his glasses knocked against her nose.  Sheepishly, he pulled back.  “Do you want me to take them off?”  
  
She gazed up at him, considering the question.  Eventually she shook her head.  “No.  Leave them on.  You wouldn’t look like you without them.”  
  
“If you’re sure,” he murmured, his hands finding their way underneath her jumper and shirt to the bare skin of her back.  Nervously, she grabbed his hand and moved it to her front, to her breast, feeling his fingers through the lace of her bra.  “Oh, Lily,” he moaned.  
  
“James,” she breathed back, wondering again why this had taken so long.  If she’d realised he could kiss like that, she might have succumbed years ago.  This was so much better than she had ever anticipated.  
  
Finally they stopped, re-adjusting their clothes a little self-consciously, and he stood there looking at her for a little while.  “So, does this mean we’re going out now?” he asked eventually.  “Or was this just a one-off …”  His voice trailed off, like he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know the answer.  
  
She stifled a laugh – he looked so vulnerable.  “James Potter, if this was only intended to be a one-off, I’d never have done it,” she said, a broad smile across her face.  “You should know I’m not like that.”  
  
He looked a little abashed and pulled her towards him again.  “That was what I thought,” he admitted, “but I just wanted to be sure.”  
  
She wrapped both arms around his neck again.  “Well, if you still need convincing …" she whispered, finding his lips once again.  But that was one thing he clearly did not need.  Relaxing into him, she pulled him that little bit closer and enjoyed the moment.  For however long that moment might be.  
  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to pennyardelle from HPFF for her fantastic beta work on this chapter.


	12. Sirius: Unsuccessful attempt #5 (or something)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> November 1977

 

Maybe it’s #6. Or maybe #7, or even as high as #10 or #20. I lose count, especially when it’s of my failures. After all, who wants to be reminded of those?

Anyway, this one’s a doozy. Not only did I not have any success, but incredibly enough (or not, when you look at how my luck generally goes) it went entirely the other way and now she hates me.

Let me tell you what happened. It was this afternoon and I’d made up my mind to just do it. Find her alone somewhere and ask her out. Or snog her, or something. Anything that would stop this stupid impasse that’s come up because I always chicken out.

It was Moony’s idea originally. “Try this afternoon,” he said at lunch time. “She usually heads to the library after Ancient Runes so you might be able to cut her off on the way. Those corridors are usually pretty quiet.”

I thought about that, stealing a look at her down the table where she sat, eating lunch, totally oblivious to my predicament. “I guess I could try …” I said doubtfully, thinking I would probably end up losing my nerve like I did every other time I tried to say something. What if she turned me down? That didn’t bear thinking about.

Anyway, I did decide to give it a go. Those passageways were fairly quiet, like Moony said, and it was unlikely we’d be interrupted. Maybe it might actually work out, you never know your luck. So at about the time Runes would finish I made my way to that part of the castle, Marauder’s Map in hand, hoping to run into her before she made it as far as the library. Far too many people there to say anything to her; I didn’t want this to be overheard.

I was halfway there when I heard footsteps behind me. Just what I needed - a witness. It was the wrong direction to have been Laura and there wasn’t anyone else I wanted to see. However I turned around, curious to see whether it was just Filch or whether Prongs or someone had come to find me, to see a girl I’d never seen before almost sprinting towards me. Young, maybe fifth or sixth year, but I didn’t know the face. Didn’t really want to, either, by the looks of her.

I moved to one side of the corridor to let her pass – after all, if she was in that much of a hurry then I didn’t want to keep her – but it appeared to be me she was after. Don’t tell me, I thought. Not another giggler. Not now.

Unfortunately it appeared that was exactly what she was – a new recruit or something, going by the fact I didn’t recognise her. And she didn’t want to get past me, she wanted me. I could guess what for but really, could the timing have been worse? That is, it was flattering and everything, but I would really have preferred it if they were a bit quieter about it all. Especially when I was trying to get my bottle up to approach Laura at long last.

It didn’t take long for her to reach me, and when she did she pretty much attacked me, jumping up with her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck like a noose and trying to get a snog out of me. I had to hold onto her to stop her from falling but I needed to get out of this. Fast.

Just then, though, Laura came around the corner. The timing couldn’t have been worse. It would have looked awful – this girl hanging off me and while I’d been trying to get rid of her it probably looked like we’d just been hard at it. And there I’d been trying to get the guts up to ask her out, and she would be thinking I’d been getting busy with some other girl I’d never even seen before.

Laura stopped and stared at us in shock. I managed to get rid of the giggler but she kept coming back to me and trying to make it look like we were a couple or something, while all the time Laura just stood there and looked at me, so reproachfully I felt like I’d been torturing puppies or something. “It wasn’t what it looked like,” I said hurriedly, pushing the giggler away impatiently.

She raised her eyebrows doubtfully and I could tell she didn’t believe a word. And the bloody giggler just came back to me and tried to get her arms around me and said something like of course it was what it looked like. “Why don’t you want to admit we’re together now?” she asked, a stupidly soppy look on her face.

“Because we’re not,” I pointed out irritably. I looked back at Laura, hoping against hope she would believe me. “Honestly, Laura, there’s nothing going on here.”

She was still gazing at me, but she didn’t look shocked any more, more a little angry, though I wasn’t really sure. I didn’t really trust myself to work out what she was thinking, I tended to get it way wrong. But then she spoke, and each word was like a knife in my heart. “Why should I care who you’re snogging, Sirius? Do what you like. It’s no skin off my nose.”

_Please, no_ , I thought. _Please care. Please maybe even be a little jealous. Anything but this_. “But we weren’t,” I said desperately, still trying to rid myself of the infernal giggler who had probably ruined everything. “Laura, honestly, we weren’t.”

“Right,” she said, still obviously not believing any of it. “Whatever. I don’t really care.” And she left. She didn’t even look back. That was it.

Well, it looked now like every hope had been in vain. She didn’t see me that way. She probably never would.

The giggler was trying to climb on me again and this time I didn’t care if she got hurt, I just hurled her away to get rid of her once and for all. I had the awful feeling she had just ruined my life.

“That hurt,” she said accusingly as she picked herself up from the floor.

“Tell someone who cares,” I snapped at her. “You’ve done enough damage for one day.” And I pulled out my wand and pointed it at her. “Stay here for one second longer and you’ll regret it,” I said ominously.

Fortunately she didn’t need telling twice and she hurried away from me, in the opposite direction Laura had gone in. I put my wand back away and punched a suit of armour, so hard it collapsed on the floor with a rather satisfying crash that masked the sound of my swearing. Not only had it gone badly, but Laura doubtless thought I was having it off with some nameless giggler and had absolutely no idea how hard I’d been trying to get close to her. Everything was going wrong.

I stomped my way back to the classroom on the fourth floor where Prongs was planning the next prank on Snivellus, scowling at everyone on the way. How could it get screwed up so badly?

Moony looked up as I came in. “How’d it-” He stopped abruptly when he saw my face.

“Bloody gigglers,” I grumbled. “Bloody jumped on me and now she thinks I’m shagging one of them.”

“What??” James looked horrified.

“Yeah, well, I got ambushed. And then Laura walked in on us at just the wrong time. It would have looked terrible.”

Moony looked at me thoughtfully. “Hufflepuff girl, maybe sixth year, blonde?”

I nodded. “Sounds about right.”

“That would explain that,” he went on. “I heard her telling someone she’s going out with you now. I wondered why anyone would be saying that.”

“She’s WHAT??” I shouted.

“You heard,” Moony said. “Looks like we’re going to have to do some damage control.”

I shook my head resignedly. I’d never end up with Laura at this rate. Not if this sort of crap kept happening. “Yes, well, Laura would believe her,” I said bitterly. “Honestly, she could not have come across us at a worse time.”

“Cheer up,” Prongs said bracingly. “I’m sure it’s not as bad as all that. And anyway, you can explain it all at supper tonight, right?”

****

So it’s supper time and I’m keeping an eye out for her, hoping she doesn’t baulk at the sight of me or anything. Let’s face it, she didn’t look impressed this afternoon and I can understand that – if anything, one would hope I had better taste than that. And more style than just getting it off with someone in a corridor; at the very least you find somewhere you can close a door. After all, _anyone_ could walk down a corridor, Dumbledore and McGonagall included, and Merlin only knows I don’t want to put on a display for them.

Anyway, soon enough the girls all come in en masse, _sans_ Laura. My eyes dart to the main door but there’s nothing to see – she doesn’t appear to be coming late. Actually, she doesn’t appear to be coming at all.

My heart sinks and I can’t stop myself from asking the question. “Where’s Laura?”

Lily shrugs as she takes her place by James. “She wasn’t feeling well so she decided not to come down,” she says. “She didn’t sound too good so we just left her.”

I look at Mary Macdonald in case she knows any more – as Laura’s best friend she might have some more insight – but she appears to simply agree with Lily’s summary.

“Shouldn’t she be with Madam Pomfrey then?” I ask. After all, if she’s ill then she needs to be looked after. And besides, if she’s in the hospital wing I can go and see her, which I can’t really get away with if she’s stuck in her dorm.

“Not that ill,” Lily says, laughing. “She’s just worn out from studying too much and needed a rest. I’m sure she’ll be fine in the morning.”

Well, that’s a relief. What a night for her to be feeling ill, though – just goes to show how my luck’s panning out. Not that I like her not being well at all, but if it had to happen, why did it have to be tonight? Now I’ll have to wait till tomorrow to explain things to her. Assuming she’s feeling any better then, of course.

“Calm down,” Prongs mutters quietly. “It’s not the end of the world.”

_Yeah, you can say that_ , I think, _because you didn’t see her face this afternoon._ Not the end of the world? It sure feels like it.

****

The next morning’s just as bad. She doesn’t show up for breakfast, either, and I’m ready to head up to her dorm, obvious or not, just so I can make sure she’s okay. But then Mary explains she is coming, she’s just running a bit late. Very late, by the looks of things – she’s not made an appearance by the time we finish our breakfast.

Moony’s completely unconcerned and he’s poking through his bag looking for something. “Damn,” he says eventually. “Forgot my Transfiguration homework. How about I dash upstairs to get that and meet you guys outside the classroom?”

“Fine,” I say dully, registering vaguely that maybe I should do the same and spend the time looking for Laura instead. This misunderstanding is really eating away at me – I even had trouble sleeping last night – and I want to make sure she completely understands it wasn’t what it looked like. That is, she should know that by now, with the other girls knowing the score, but you never know. I have to be sure.

Anyway Moony takes off and the rest of us take our time finishing up. I’m loathe to leave because if Laura’s coming late, I don’t want to miss her, so I string it out as long as I can. Eventually, though, even I can’t make excuses to hang around any longer and we head out into the Entrance Hall.

Suddenly we stop dead. At the top of the stairs is Moony, with his arms around Laura, and she’s hanging off him like the giggler was hanging off me yesterday. Moony. With Laura. That bloody bastard …

Before I can say anything though they’ve disappeared and Prongs puts a hand on my shoulder to stop me going after them. “Don’t make a scene in front of her,” he says warningly, and I realise he’s right. But still … I never thought Moony would ever break the code like that. He KNOWS what she is to me. How he could dare lay a finger on her …

I’m going to kill him. I swear, if he’s made a move on her, I’m going to kill him.

“And I’m taking that,” Prongs says, pulling my wand out of my hand. I hadn’t even realised I’d got it out. “I don’t want you killing either of _us_ over this – we’re not the ones who broke the code.” I look at him and he gestures towards himself and Wormtail. “When Moony gets back, though, he’s fair game.” His face is dark and he looks furious – almost as furious as I feel.

We don’t have to wait long. After only a few minutes Moony’s back downstairs, looking a bit apprehensive. Prongs grabs him by the collar and pulls him into an empty classroom, closing the door and making a point of giving me my wand back before he lets rip.

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?” He’s pointing his wand right at Moony’s face and I hope he doesn’t hex him too badly just yet. Not that I don’t want Moony to suffer, more I want to be the one who does it.

“It was nothing,” Moony protests feebly. He looks pretty scared, and for good reason. We’d thought he was our friend! And then he goes and does something like that? He’s lucky he’s still in one piece.

"Sure as hell didn’t look like nothing,” I snarl, my own wand joining Prongs’ on his temple.

Prongs gives his wand a flick. “Yeah, you’d better have a damn good reason to fudge the code like that.”

Moony ignores the fact he’s just been given a Hair-Thickening Charm and tries to look resolute through the bushes that were once his eyebrows. “It was nothing,” he repeats. “If you’d just hear me out …”

“Fat chance of that,” Wormtail says.

“Actually,” Prongs says loudly, talking over him, “I want to hear this. How he tries to worm his way out of it. So go on, Moony, explain yourself.” His voice is like ice and if looks could kill Moony would have been dead ten times over already. We don’t see Prongs this angry very often, and if we needed reminding how hard he can be this is a good example of it.

“I haven’t fudged the code,” Moony says helplessly. “I didn’t break any rules. Not one. Come on, I helped write them, why would I break them?”

I push my wand further into his forehead. “Not good enough,” I snarl. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t curse you into next week right now.” My blood’s boiling – the very idea of him getting his hands on Laura, when he KNOWS what she means to me, is eating away at me and I need to see him punished. More than the Hair-Thickening Charm. I start wondering if _Crucio_ would make him suffer enough …

“It’s Laura,” Moony says quickly, his voice loud like he wants to make sure we all hear him. “She’s in the hospital wing. I took her to the hospital wing, she got hit by a jinx and fell down the marble stairs and needed to get fixed up. That’s all it was.”

I take a step back and my wand falls out of my hand and clatters to the floor. Laura’s been hurt?

“You’re sure about this?” Prongs is saying doubtfully. “She’s in the hospital wing?”

“Yes,” Moony says, the colour coming back to what we can still see of his face. Wormtail says the counter-jinx for the Hair-Thickening Charm and his hair starts receding again. “Go up there and check if you don’t believe me,” Moony goes on, looking encouraged. “When I came out of the Great Hall she was at the bottom of the stairs covered in blood, she’d been hit by a Trip Jinx and fallen. So I cleaned her off and helped her get to Madam Pomfrey. That’s all. Marauder’s honour.”

“She’s okay now, though?” I have to know. “She’s going to be okay?”

“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Moony says, looking relieved.

“You’re sure?” I hiss. “What does that mean? Didn’t you wait to find out?”

“Well,” he points out, “I kind of wanted to get back to you lot and explain what you saw before you jumped to any conclusions. I knew what it would have looked like.”

My mind is going at a million miles an hour. “She fell down the marble stairs? Those ones, just outside here?” I gesture helplessly at the door. “How badly was she hurt? Why didn’t you conjure up a stretcher or something? What if you did even more damage by making her walk?”

Moony finally relaxes as he can see we do believe him. “She had a busted ankle,” he says, screwing his face up as he tries to think about it. “All red and swollen. That was why she was leaning on me to walk. And she was worried about her ribs, too, she thought they might have cracked. And a few cuts and bruises.” He looks helplessly at me. “I didn’t even think of a stretcher, Padfoot. If I had, I would have done it. But I’m sure she’ll be fine, those are the sorts of things Madam Pomfrey can fix in a jiffy. She might even make it to Transfiguration.”

I smile grimly. If anyone knows what Madam Pomfrey can fix, it’ll be Moony. “Hang on,” I say sharply, something having just occurred to me, “she got hit by a Trip Jinx? Who did it?” And wait till I get a hold of them, too. Hurting Laura is completely unacceptable.

“Alecto Carrow,” Moony says. “Yeah, I was surprised too,” he goes on quickly. “But apparently it was her. So if you want to curse anyone …”

“Believe me, I will,” I say, hearing the menace in my voice and finding my wand in my hand again. I don’t even remember picking it up but there’s something comforting about holding it. If I can hurt Carrow as much as or more than she hurt Laura, it might start to make up for what she did.

Moony’s looking at James now. “All okay?” He clearly wants to make sure there won’t be any lingering issues from this.

“All okay,” Prongs says, clapping him on the shoulder. “Though you can understand why we reacted like that …”

“Of course, of course,” Moony says. “But really, it was entirely innocent. I wouldn’t touch her. You know that.”

I pick up my bag and open the door, ready to head up the marble staircase. “Well, I’m off.”

Prongs looks up at me. “Uh, Padfoot, Transfiguration’s that way.” He points beyond the Great Hall.

I shrug. “I’m going to the hospital wing.”

“Is that a good idea?” Prongs says sharply. “Look, Madam Pomfrey probably won’t even let you in.”

“Well, where’s the Cloak then?”

“No,” he says. “You’re not using the Cloak for this.”

I stare at him. “Why not? You would if it was Lily.”

“She may not even be there,” Prongs points out. “Like Moony said, this is the sort of thing Madam Pomfrey just fixes straight away. So you’d be better off going to Transfiguration because she’ll probably be there anyway.”

“And speaking of which, I really do need to dash upstairs and get my homework,” Moony says. “Meet you there?”

“Right,” says Prongs. “So come on, you two. Off we go.”

Conceding defeat, I allow myself to be led to the Transfiguration classroom.

****

Halfway through the lesson, I come to the conclusion I shouldn’t have bothered.

I’m not normally one to skive off a class, especially not one as easy as Transfiguration, but I just can’t keep my mind on the job. Thing is, of course, Laura’s not there. Which means she must still be in the hospital wing, which means she’s still hurt. And all I want to do is be able to go to her and hold her and make sure she’s okay – and if she’s not, help her get there. As a result, my brain just isn’t in that classroom, and unfortunately McGonagall notices.

“That’s the fourth time I’ve had to repeat a question to you, Black,” she says tersely, bringing me back to reality with a jolt. “Please see me afterwards to organise a detention.”

Great. Detention on top of everything else. And if I have to see her after class that gives me less time to run over to the hospital wing to check on Laura. “Yes, Professor,” I say dully, realising belatedly that the rest of the class have their textbooks out. Oops. I dig around in my bag and find mine, checking Prongs’ to work out where it’s supposed to be opened at. Too soon though my mind starts wandering again and I don’t even realise that the lesson’s over.

“Here,” Prongs hisses, pushing something into my bag. “Now go see McGonagall.”

The detention she sets is fairly standard – Thursday night, cleaning out the Owlery (without magic, of course) – and I say as little as possible so I can get out of there quickly. I have an inkling of what Prongs has put in my bag and, once outside the classroom, I check. I had guessed right – it’s the Cloak. So without further ado I pull it on over my head and rush to the hospital wing.

Laura’s the only one in there, and she’s asleep. I was being extra quiet but now I see it’s not necessary, though of course she might wake … would that be a good or a bad thing? Still with the Cloak on, I sit next to her bed and try to work out whether she’s still hurt or whether she’s just resting. She looks gorgeous - lying on her side with one arm outside the covers, her hair partially covering her face. A vision of peace and tranquillity. I brush some hair away from her nose and mouth, feeling the softness of her skin as I do so, and I even get up the guts to pick up her hand and kiss it. If she wakes up, I think, so be it – at least it will be out in the open. But she doesn’t, she just sighs a little and keeps on sleeping.

I could sit here for hours, I realise. Of course, Charms is on in five minutes, and I consider skiving off, but eventually the sensible part of me concludes I should probably do the right thing. After all, she might need a hand catching up that class, and if I can help out …

I don’t want to leave her, though. Not without knowing whether or not she’s actually still hurt.  Torn, I stand by her bed for at least a minute, trying to decide what to do. Eventually the rational side wins – it’s what she would do if it was her, after all – and I go to Charms, but not before I’ve stroked her hair one more time. After all, it might be the closest I ever get so I want to make the most of it.

****

As I’d feared, she never comes to Charms either, and I’m beginning to despair of seeing her – awake, at least – at all that day. And even though I’m watching the doors of the Great Hall like a hawk at lunch time, I’m genuinely surprised when she walks through them, seemingly unharmed. So she’s okay! Oh, thank Merlin. I realise how tense I’d been when I feel myself relaxing and, when she seems pretty much the same as always, I really let myself breathe out. She’s still not really talking to me, though, so I can’t be sure if she knows that disaster yesterday was all a misunderstanding.

Finally, as we head to the greenhouses after lunch to tackle Herbology, I’m able to get a word in.

“Look,” I start, “about yesterday …”

She cuts me off. “What, that giggler thing?”

Oh thank goodness. She does know it wasn’t real. “Yeah, that,” I say. “You know she was a giggler, then?”

She nods, looking a little confused, maybe as to why I’d even be bringing this up. “Yeah, I know,” she says. “It did look like something else, though.”

_And that’s been haunting me ever since_ , I think, groaning. “That was the worst possible moment you could have chosen to interrupt us,” I explain. “Any other time and it would have been obvious what was going on. And I didn’t want you to think …”

Think what? What was I going to say? I don’t even know any more. Think I’m going out with anyone else? Anyone who’s not her? I’d love to say that but I’m really not getting the right vibe from her – if anything, she’s almost hostile.

She talks over my thoughts. “Really, what does it matter what I think? It’s your life, you can do what you like.”

Because what you think matters enormously, I want to say. Because what you think can determine what I think. And as for doing what I want … well, she has no idea what she just said.

“But …” I trail off again. I really want to say something that lets her know how important this is to me, but I can’t find the words. And if I’m honest with myself she’s not exactly being encouraging. I’d hoped this would go so differently.

“Look, Sirius, I can understand you not wanting anyone to think you snogged a giggler,” she says. “That would open up way too big a can of worms. But aside from that, what difference does it make?”

NO, I want to shout, you’ve got it all wrong! It’s not about who the girl was!! It’s about who saw it! It’s about you!

I try again, realising we’re nearly at the greenhouses so I have to make her see as quickly as I can. “There was nothing there. I had absolutely nothing to do with it. I just wanted you to understand that.”

She doesn’t even look at me. That’s how unimportant this is to her, she doesn’t even bother to look at me. Instead she quickens her step to reach Mary Macdonald. “Fine,” she says as she walks away. “I understand.”

And that’s unsuccessful attempt #6. Or #7. Whatever.


	13. Laura: Gryffindor vs Slytherin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deleted scene - December 1977

The first Quidditch match of the school year took place in the last weekend in November, with Gryffindor playing Slytherin again. There was a bit of tension around the school as Slytherin hadn’t forgiven us from taking the Snitch from beneath Regulus Black’s nose the previous year to win the Quidditch Cup, so again a lot of effort went into protecting our players from the various curses and hexes that were sent their way, while trying to subject the Slytherin players to exactly the same treatment. Not exactly mature, I know, but there was enough rivalry between the two Houses to result in this sort of behaviour with only the slightest provocation – as I had noted before, the two founders of these Houses had rather famously feuded and the antipathy between their namesakes didn’t appear to have dissipated in the millennium since.

In any case all players from both teams appeared to make it through to the day of the match pretty much intact, and again the eight Gryffindor seventh-years who weren’t in the team sat as one in the grandstand, me wondering if it would be too obvious if I tried to sit next to Sirius again. I mean, it had worked the previous year, but then again he’d been avoiding me afterwards so I wondered if the couple of hours spent next to him would be worth the potential for that happening again. Really, he had me questioning my every move these days – no wonder I was failing in the quivering wreck stakes.

Fortunately Martha came to my rescue on this occasion, grabbing me by the arm and steering me to Lily’s side. She took the other side, meaning we could make sure Lily got through the game okay. This was the first time she had watched James play since they had become a couple and she was even more nervous than he was, if that was possible.

“We’ll let Charlotte sit with Remus,” Martha whispered conspiratorially as she directed people around us. “Maybe today will be the day something finally happens with those two.”

I smiled and nodded, wondering what she would be doing if she knew about me and Sirius. Whether she’d be steering us to be together like she did with Charlotte, or trying to help me get over what was clearly a hopeless situation. Watching her, I really wasn’t sure which path she would choose, as I was confident she would recognise the difference in our circumstances – Charlotte actually had a chance with Remus. Oh well. In any case I found myself directly behind Sirius anyway, which suited me just fine, so long as I wasn’t required to actually pay attention to the game.

Soon enough the starting whistle sounded and the balls were released, and the game was underway. Even with the distraction not only of Sirius directly in my line of vision, but also the Chasers hurling the Quaffle so fast we could barely see it, I was aware of the two Seekers having what appeared to be a wrestle of sorts, high above us while they waited for the Snitch to appear. It seemed Regulus certainly hadn’t forgotten that our Seeker, Persephone Alderton, had snatched the golden ball from under his nose the previous May and was determined not to let it happen again.

The battle between the Seekers eventually became so obvious that a number of people around the pitch were watching them and pointing the altercation out to their companions, the main Quaffle and Bludger-inspired game forgotten. I even got over my nerves and leaned forward to speak to Sirius about it – I knew he’d been watching it as intently as I was. It was his brother, after all.

“Do you think they’ll actually see the Snitch when it appears, or they’ll be too busy trying to knock each other off their brooms?”

He laughed. “That probably depends on where it goes when it appears,” he said. “If it flies right in front of them, then it’s just possible they’ll notice. If it doesn’t, though …”

“We’ll have a better chance of catching it from here,” I finished for him. “Yeah, I thought that might be the case.”

He turned and smiled, and I had the feeling he wanted to continue the conversation but wasn’t sure how to. Which was something that could also have been said about me. Losing my nerve, I flashed him a quick smile and turned my attention back to the game, giving Lily’s arm a squeeze as James threw the Quaffle through the right-hand goal hoop. “How many is that now?” I asked her.

“Four,” she said. Out of eight, I realised, and thought that sounded rather like James. At least half the score was generally his aim in these things. Flicking my eyes to the row in front, I noticed Sirius too turning back to the game. I was more disappointed by this than I really should have been – he didn’t really have any other option, especially considering I’d turned my attention away from him – but I pretended not to mind. After all, that sort of reaction is generally reserved for people whose feelings have a chance of being reciprocated.

Lily noticed me sigh. “You okay?” she asked, taking her eyes off James for what might well have been the first time that game. I jumped a bit – I hadn’t realised I’d been that loud. What if Sirius had heard? It didn’t bear thinking about.

“What? Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” I thought frantically about what might have made me sigh like that, aside from the actual reason, and finally came up with what I hoped was a plausible reason. “These benches can get pretty uncomfortable,” I said belatedly. “I used to bring a cushion to sit on, but I forgot today. Not to worry.” It was party true, because I had taken a cushion along to games a few times in maybe fourth year, but even I recognised it wasn’t the best excuse in the world.

Fortunately Lily seemed to take it at face value, though then again she was so focused on James that I doubted she’d really heard what I’d said. “Yeah, they’re pretty shocking, aren’t they,” she agreed without enthusiasm, her attention moving to James once more before she was distracted yet again. “Oh, look, is that the Snitch?”

We all looked at the place she was pointing to and, sure enough, it did look like the small golden ball had been released. Needless to say, the two Seekers were still too embroiled in their wrestling match to have noticed. Smiling a little because it gave me a perfect excuse to talk to him again, I leaned forward towards Sirius.

“How long before they see it, do you think?”

He laughed. “Five minutes?”

“You can do better than that,” Remus said. “How about ten?”

I grinned. “All right, then, I’ll go for eight, just to split the difference.”

“Fifteen,” Peter said, getting his bet in.

I looked back at the two Seekers, trying their hardest to knock each other off their brooms and paying virtually no attention to the game around them. “You could be onto something there, Peter,” I admitted, then looked back at Lily quickly. “Unless James sees it first and has a go at them.”

Turning to look at me, Sirius made a face. “In that case Reg’ll get it,” he said, shaking his head. “Much better broom.”

“Ugh.” He definitely had a point – as favoured son of the Blacks Regulus had the best of everything – and the idea of him getting the Snitch first didn’t appeal to me in the slightest. “Well, then, we’d better hope Persephone’s got better sight than he does. Unless James can get us enough goals in the meantime for it not to matter.”

This was certainly a possibility, as not only James but Clarrie Trimble and Prudence Worple, the other two Chasers, were making a mockery of the Slytherin defence. By that stage James had twelve goals out of twenty-seven, with Slytherin barely able to get the Quaffle out of their hands. Even the Beaters were getting in on it with Fin Quigley, having already despatched the two Bludgers at random green uniforms, catching the Quaffle as it passed him and passing it back to Clarrie to score yet another goal. Before twenty minutes were up the score was three hundred and ten to seventy. Even if Regulus did catch the Snitch, unless the Slytherin Chasers really picked up on their game, it wouldn’t matter.

Finally, the wrestling match finished, with Regulus seeming to be the victor. At least, he wasn’t the one scrambling to try to stay on his broom, which Persephone certainly seemed to be doing. “Damn,” I said quietly. “Round one to Slytherin.”

Sirius turned around again. He almost seemed to be spending more time talking to us than he did watching the game, and I wondered what his interest was. Keeping an eye on Lily, now she and James were finally together? Whatever it was, I certainly appreciated it, as I much preferred looking at his face than the back of his head.

“Actually that would be round two,” he pointed out. “If you count last year when she stole the Snitch from under his nose. Which I’m sure he does.”

I nodded. “Revenge. Well, it looks like it’ll be a good one for him. He’s spotted the Snitch.”

“What time is it, Moony?” Peter asked eagerly as Regulus soared away from the still-struggling Persephone. “Who got closest?”

Remus checked his watch. “Um … nine minutes,” he said. “Which means it’s a tie between me and Laura.”

I grinned. “So what do we win?”

Before he could answer, a roar went up around the stadium – Regulus had caught the Snitch, though with the score at four hundred and twenty to three hundred and ten (even with the hundred and fifty the Snitch brought), it was still a Gryffindor victory. We all stood up to join in the celebrations.

Remus turned around and grinned at me. “The game, by the looks of it.”

Sirius was scowling. “Bloody Reg, bet he’ll think he’s got bragging rights now.”

I grinned at him. “In which case you can just point to the scorecard. We still won. And there’s nothing he can do to change that.”

He smiled back. “Just as well too,” he agreed, and I had to concentrate in order to remain standing. That smile always got to me. “Means I still have some pride left.”

Quivering Wreck 300; Laura 3. Or something like that. This was getting ridiculous. Fortunately Lily came to my rescue.

“Uh – Laura? We’re going back down. I want to try to catch James before he heads into the changing rooms.”

I looked up to see that I was indeed blocking everyone’s way. Why did Sirius always have to have this effect on me? Blushing furiously, I wrapped my Gryffindor scarf more tightly around my neck, casting a sheepish look Sirius’ way and hoping desperately he didn’t read too much into this. “Of course. Sorry.” And, resolutely not looking anywhere near where Sirius might happen to be lest I give too much away, I headed to the aisle and staircase to head back to the ground.


	14. Sirius: The Yule Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> December 1977

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to CapellaBlack, who turned this from a shemozzle into something vaguely readable.

I had wanted to wait in the common room until Laura came downstairs, just to see her before I found my own date, but it was getting closer and closer to eight o’clock and I was conscious of being late.  Not that I had any feelings for Anne whatsoever, but it was polite to be on time. However, just as I was about to climb through the portrait hole, feet appeared on the girls’ stairs and I found myself frozen as I watched the girls descend.  
  
My eyes found her immediately, drawn to her like they’d been Summoned. She looked incredible. Better than incredible – she took my breath away. She was wearing blue robes that fit her like a dream, showing every curve I wanted to see but modest enough to leave something to the imagination, and the expanse of bare skin around her shoulders was more enticing than even I would have believed. Her hair was kind of pulled back off her face but still had that curl that sat just below her chin, and her only jewellery was a pair of simple gold earrings and the clasp I had bought her all those months ago. The overall effect was nothing short of stunning and I wasn’t convinced I’d be able to take my eyes off her.  
  
I was only vaguely aware of the four other girls with her, an unwelcome intrusion that obscured my view, and was pleased when two of them stopped in the common room where their own dates were waiting. The other three – Laura plus two others, who I didn’t really look at – were going down to the Entrance Hall to meet their dates for the evening, so I agreed to accompany them. Like that was a hardship: I would have had trouble keeping away from her anyway. Unfortunately the journey downstairs was too short, even without using the regular short-cut to the second floor, and before I knew it we were all in the Entrance Hall.  
  
She took off immediately to find her date, Bernie bloody Carmichael. Who’d only got in because I had lost my nerve and hadn’t had the courage to ask her first. Bernie bloody Carmichael who had the best looking, most amazing girl in the school on his arm tonight.  Not just the school, but the world. Did he even realise how lucky he was?  
  
At least I’d been getting some revenge by hexing him constantly since he’d had the gall to ask her. I was sure he knew it was me but really, did that matter? He had Laura and I didn’t – treating him any better was unconscionable.   
  
I watched Carmichael take her into the Great Hall, jealousy eating away at me, and it was only when they were out of sight that I started looking for Anne. Short blonde girl, reasonably pretty, had to be around here somewhere. It didn’t take long to find her, and she looked quite nice, but everything paled in comparison to how Laura had looked.  
  
I offered her my arm and walked her into the Great Hall, finding Laura very quickly and then finding a table that afforded a good view of her. Anne was saying something about wanting to sit somewhere else, but I made an excuse and then called Wormtail and Fortuna over to join us, as though they were the reason I’d chosen that spot. I was having trouble tearing my eyes from the other table, from the beautiful girl in the blue robes who was so close and yet so distant from me.  
  
The meal was a torture of small talk and innocuous stories, with Anne continually trying to interest me with her conversation. And I had to admit she was making a good job of it, only to be constantly frustrated from my lack of reaction. It wasn’t that I expressly didn’t want to talk to her, but every time Laura moved, even just her hands, I got distracted and began to watch, almost as though I was in a trance. Eventually, as we finished eating, she glared at me.  
  
“Why don’t you just ask her out already and be done with it?”  
  
I feigned ignorance, feeling a little ashamed I’d been such bad company. “Who?”  
  
“Laura Cauldwell, of course,” she snapped. “The one you’ve been staring at all night. I don’t know why I’m even bothering with you, you obviously don’t want to have anything to do with me.”  
  
When I didn’t deny it – and I couldn’t, I couldn’t bring myself to lie like that – she stood up and walked away in a huff. Where to, I didn’t know, but it was probably just as well.  
  
I watched as Prongs and Lily went over to Laura’s table to have a chat, and inwardly cursed them for not inviting me to join them.  She hadn’t even looked at me since we’d entered the Great Hall, not once, and I was almost despairing that this whole thing would be fruitless and she had no interest in me at all. But then I remembered what Prongs had said, not to give up hope, and it settled me a little. _Breathe in, breathe out. Right, you can do this._  
  
Once their conversation was over, Bernie bloody Carmichael helped Laura to her feet and whisked her away to the dance floor, and I watched Carmichael’s hands to make sure he didn’t start groping her or anything. Date or not, I might have had to step in if that was the case. She was far too special to be subjected to that sort of thing, and Merlin only knew she’d had enough of it with that creep Aubrey. But fortunately Carmichael seemed to know where to stop, and even more fortunately after four or five numbers he even excused himself from her and went off to talk to someone else. It was baffling – how could he even think of leaving her side?  
  
Right. This was it. She was dateless and just sitting at an empty table near the dance floor, talking to Mary. Carmichael was still talking to whoever it was, so he couldn’t possibly object. This was my chance. Did I look okay? Was my hair all right? I hurriedly ran my fingers through it to make it sit right, ruing the fact there were no mirrors around so I couldn’t check it. Taking a deep breath and steeling myself, and trying to ignore the fact that Prongs had stopped dancing with Lily and had started physically pushing me towards her, I made my way over to her and offered my hand. “My turn now?”  
  
Mother of Merlin. I actually did it. But what if it didn't work out? What if she said no? Could I shrug it off or would I have to leave the room to hide my disappointment?  
  
Amazingly enough, I didn't have to worry about that. She smiled at me and I thought my knees might give way. “Sure.”  
  
I almost couldn't grab hold of her, I was that nervous. One whiff of her hair was almost enough to set me off and I was consumed with thoughts of finally saying something and her laughing in my face. Fortunately, though, she seemed oblivious to my turmoil. Warm and supple in my arms, she was a little taller than usual so she must have high heels on. This felt right: she fit into my arms like she belonged there. We didn’t even need to talk, I felt like we just had an understanding. (Did I really dare to think that?) Really, though, just this small contact had already made me hard. (Uh oh. We were so close, surely she had to notice? Would she see it as a good thing or a bad thing?) But no, she pulled back from me and started up a conversation, bringing up things I’d done in what seemed like another life, like we were just friends still and this was completely platonic.  
  
Damn. Back to square one. And my nerves came up worse than ever, so much so that I almost had to let go of her in order to try to compose myself.  
  
Even worse, the mood had changed a little and I wanted to get it back to where it was. In desperation, I told her I’d meant to ask her to the ball myself, and she reacted in the way I both expected and dreaded. “Really? But I thought … ” Her voice trailed off and she looked confused. “Are you sure you didn’t want to ask someone else and just didn’t get around to it?”  
  
Why on earth would I have wanted to do that? She still didn’t realise how very desirable she was. “Where’d you get that idea?” I asked, hoping that she might eventually realise it was her I wanted. Had wanted all along.  
  
“Oh – nowhere.” She was quiet again, her chin resting on my shoulder, and I was sure I could feel her heart beating almost as fast as mine was.  
  
When the music stopped she made a move to get away, as though she expected me to let go of her. Yeah, right. As if I could ever do that. I leaned down and spoke softly into her ear. “I don’t think so.”  
  
“What do you mean? I really should be getting back to Bernie.” Of course, the need to do what’s right. One of the things that made her so special.  
  
“The thing is,” I said, more nervous than I’d ever felt before, “now that I’ve got you, I have absolutely no intention of letting you go.”  
  
There. I'd said it, even though my stomach was doing somersaults. She looked up at me, those lovely eyes showing puzzlement, but didn’t move. This looked promising and I even let myself relax - just a little. “What do you mean?”  
  
“And definitely not with you looking like that,” I continued, buoyed by the fact she was still letting me hold her. “You look incredible.” And I told her about my failed date, and the reason I’d been ditched by Anne. She stood upright in my arms, a bit of a dazed look on her face, and all I could think of was getting her out, somewhere a bit more private and, not really focusing on where we were going, walked outside with her until we arrived at the greenhouses.  
  
Here we stopped and I looked down at her, willing myself to keep control. She looked exquisite. Her hair had come a little out of its clips and was becoming endearingly tousled. Her eyes were warm and soft and deep, just inviting me to dive in and go for a swim in them. Her skin looked so soft that I was having trouble stopping myself from stroking it to find out. Her robes were almost coming off her shoulder and were held together just above her breasts by the clasp I had bought her. Breasts, I might add, that were heaving a little – maybe she was as nervous as I was? In any case they were a little distracting. She was in every way completely alluring and if I wasn’t careful I might do something I’d regret.  
  
Still hard, by the way. How could I not be, with a temptation like this in front of me? Though maybe she still hadn’t noticed. I’d got this far, I didn’t want to scare her off.  
  
“So, Laura, this thing with Bernie Carmichael,” I said, looking back to her face, forcing myself to do the right thing, to hold back if she actually liked the guy. “Is it an actual date, or is he just someone to come to the ball with?” I found I was holding my breath, waiting for the answer. So much depended on it.  
  
“Bernie?” She looked surprised. “No, it’s not a date.” I breathed out again with relief. This might work out after all. “He asked me to the ball and I said yes,” she went on. “That’s about it. Why?”  
  
“Nothing more?” I had to double check, had to be absolutely sure.  
  
“Definitely not,” she laughed. “He’s been holding me with kid gloves all night. It’s almost like he’s scared to touch me.”  
  
I smiled with relief - this was too good to be true. I took another deep breath, willing her to not turn away from me. “In that case,” I said, choosing my words carefully to make sure it wasn’t obvious how much I wanted this, “maybe I can get away with stealing you away from him.” I almost shook my head at my own thoughts. Why was I bothering with worrying about what to say when, if she took a step closer, it would be absolutely clear how I felt?  
  
Her beautiful face again belied surprise. “You haven’t really stolen me,” she said, as always wanting to make sure there were no misunderstandings. She started saying something else but I wasn’t really paying attention – this was my chance and I had to make the most of it. If I didn’t do it now, right now, I would lose my nerve again and it may never happen.  
  
I leaned in and fixed my lips on hers. They were just as soft as they looked, just as tender. And she didn’t pull away or do anything that she might have done if this really was the wrong thing to do, which had to be a good start. I felt her arms around my neck, which was also a good sign. Maybe, just maybe, she wanted this too.  
  
Time to move up, I thought, opening my mouth a little and pushing my tongue through her lips. They were already apart and I was gratified to find her tongue pushing through as well, seeking mine, moving around my mouth with what had to be called enthusiasm. Oh, thank Merlin, I thought, starting to relax and lose myself in her arms. Her hand was now on the back of my head and she pulled me closer to her. She tasted wonderful. This was worth the wait, this was amazing.  
  
I felt like I might explode from her touch, chaste and innocent though it was, and I soon realised that if I didn’t put a stop to things I might go much further than I intended and than she would welcome, just because my body couldn’t believe it was finally happening. All I could think of was the feel of her skin, the curves of her body, how it would feel to caress her most intimate places, to be inside her, and I knew that I shouldn’t even think of that during the first kiss. Not to mention the potential for embarrassing physical evidence that I had been thinking about just that. So I forced myself to pull away, to hose myself down, so to speak.  
  
She looked confused and almost upset that I’d stopped, so I smiled at her. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” I said, looking for the relief to cross her face. However, all I saw was puzzlement.  
  
“Really? But why me?” Of course she would ask that, she had never understood her own attractions, always selling herself short. She was the most beautiful girl I’d ever known, the funniest, the most resourceful, the best company. How could I not fall for her?  
  
“I just can’t convince you how amazing you are,” I said, only half pretending the exasperation in my voice. I knew she was about to challenge my choice, ask about someone she thought was prettier than she was, so I stopped her before she could ask the question. “That argument hasn’t held water for ages, and you know it. You are every bit as beautiful, and talented, and smart, and special – in fact you’re more than they are, more incredible than any other girl I’ve ever met.” I realised I was babbling but that didn’t really matter, so long as she understood my intent. How serious I was, how much I wanted her.  
  
“Thank you.” She looked a little overwhelmed. I wasn’t sure that I’d convinced her or not, but if she would just give me time I would prove it to her in every way I could think of.  My arms were still around her, one hand running through her hair – which, by the way, was soft and silky and just as lovely to touch as I thought it would be – and I allowed myself to lean in and kiss her again, for the first time sure of what her reaction would be.  
  
This time I did lose control a bit, soon realising that I had pushed her up against the wall of the greenhouse in my eagerness. Nine months of wanting her was coming out and I was running my hands down the side of her body, relishing this first opportunity to touch her. As I pulled her ever closer to me I could feel her breasts up against me, teasing me with their proximity. But no, I had to remember to stay away from those areas I wanted to touch most. I knew how uncomfortable Aubrey had made her, and had no wish for her to think I was like that. If I wasn’t mistaken, she was kissing me with as much passion and hunger as I was her, so there would be lots of time for that. I’d waited this long, I could go a little longer if it meant she might be mine for good.  
  
Yep, still hard. And probably would be for a while, if this kept up. We were that close that you couldn’t have fit a toothpick in between us, so she had to have noticed by now. Which, I reflected, would make me the poster boy for self control, unlike Aubrey. Please think better of me because of it!  
  
Eventually I realised that it had started snowing again, and that she really wasn’t dressed to be outside in this weather. Imagine if she got ill because of me, so ill I couldn’t be with her? It was too horrible to contemplate. So I reluctantly pulled away again, and took off my own cloak to keep her warm. “You need this,” I said, encouraging her to accept it. It looked better on her than it did on me anyway. “I can’t have you catching cold on me, not now.”  
  
I also realised that she needed to close off with her date, that Carmichael might be looking for her. I had no idea how long we’d been outside but it had to be a while. So I took her back to the Great Hall, hoping desperately that she would do what I thought she would.  
  
It was with reluctance that I let go of her as she went to talk to Carmichael, and they were talking for longer than I was comfortable with. I’d only just got her, I had no intention of letting her go again. However, just when I was running out of patience, just when I was about to go over and claim her as mine they parted, him going back to the dance floor with whatever girl he’d been dancing with while we’d been outside. I went to her and put my arms around her, breathing a sigh of relief as she let herself be enveloped in them. It felt the most natural thing in the world, holding her to me, protecting her from the outside world. My embrace was her natural home.  Where she belonged.  
  
“Can you think of any reason,” I said after a bit, “why we should stay in here rather than finding somewhere more private?”  
  
She looked around the room, taking longer to answer than I would have liked. But then again, anything other than immediate would have been longer than I would have liked. “None whatsoever,” she said eventually.  
  
“Good,” I said. “Neither can I.” And I led her up the stairs, looking for a disused classroom where we wouldn’t be disturbed.  
  
I had to remember to take this slowly, no matter what certain parts of me were urging. She was the ultimate prize, so soft, so beautiful, and she would be worth waiting for. And there was something to be said for moving slowly, enjoying each stage before moving on to the next. I knew it would take a lot of self control but I was determined to try, to make sure she was mine for as long as possible, to make sure she didn’t get freaked out by me moving faster than she was ready for. If I played my cards right, if I took this at just the right pace, she would eventually want me just as much as I wanted her, and I knew that if we got that far I would be her first. And that would be amazing, being that person for someone like her.  
  
I explained this to her – not the first time thing, but the idea of going slowly, of savouring each moment before moving on. “And you’ll tell me,” I said seriously, “if you’re ever not comfortable, won’t you?” I was absolutely in earnest, wanting to make sure she understood it was all up to her. That I wasn't like Aubrey had been.  
  
She looked pleased and I was gratified that my decision had been the right one. “Of course I will.”  
  
I smiled. “Good.” And I picked up her wrist, gave it a bit of a rub with my thumb and brought it up to my mouth. It might be slowly, but it was worth every second. This was everything I’d been hoping for. The best night of my life. And if I didn't screw it all up, the beginning of something incredible.  
  
 


	15. Regret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> January 1978

Sirius stood there, staring open-mouthed at the place Laura had just been. She’d left. He couldn’t believe it. She’d left, not just Prongs’ place, but him.

He couldn’t get the image out of his mind, the look on her face, full of hurt and anger and betrayal. And then – crack. She’d gone. Where, he had no idea.

Somewhere he could hear the sound of a car starting up. Of course! The car. That was where she’d gone, and if he hurried he might be able to get her to stay. Turning quickly on the spot, he Apparated to the place she’d left it parked.

Too late. She’d already sped off down the lane, sending up bits of snow and dirt from the tyres as she went. Feeling the futility of it, Sirius still took off after her, running as fast as he could in the direction she’d gone. When he couldn’t keep up in human form he transformed into a dog, which meant he could move much more quickly, but even then he couldn’t catch her. Eventually he gave up, sitting forlornly on the ground as he watched her drive away.

How could it all have gone so wrong? Yes, it had felt too good to be true, but he hadn’t thought it would screw up quite this quickly. Scowling, he quickly transformed back to human form and Disapparated back to the Potters’.

James met him at the front door. “What happened?”

Sirius didn’t answer. This was one thing he didn’t want to talk about. Yes, he’d screwed up, but if he had any say in it he’d be able to fix it pretty shortly. He’d write to Laura and explain everything, what he’d meant and how she’d misinterpreted things. It was an easy enough explanation, and she was reasonable enough to listen to – or, in this case, read – his version of events. In any case, he was very hopeful it would be only a temporary glitch in this new relationship.

After all, the alternative didn’t bear thinking about. He’d only just got her. He couldn’t lose her so quickly – could he?

Hurrying to his room, he pulled out a quill and some parchment and wrote as quickly as he could, trying to explain what she’d heard and why she’d misinterpreted it. He didn’t even proofread it after he’d written it, instead calling the Potters’ owl to his window and sending it off to Bristol: time was of the essence. With any luck it would get there before she did and she could read it as quickly as possible and forgive him and everything would be back how it should be.

What he didn’t expect, though, was to have the letter returned, unopened, with another parcel attached to the owl’s other leg. With a sinking heart, he heard it jangle as he unwrapped it – the sound of gold. If that meant what he thought it might …

Two pieces of jewellery dropped onto the table next to him – a gold clasp with a daffodil engraved in it, and a gold bracelet with a single daffodil charm on it. Not only had she not read his letter, but she’d sent his presents back. She was serious, he realised. She really intended to end it.

He couldn’t believe it. After all those months of chasing her, after the joy of finally claiming her and realising the feeling was mutual, she was willing to let something as minor as this get in the way of their happiness?

_I have to talk to her_ , he thought frantically. _I have to make her understand._ But how? He couldn’t exactly show up on her doorstep – not only was there the boyfriend ban to consider, but in light of that she probably wouldn’t be too impressed if she got in trouble because he was blatantly ignoring the supposed restriction. And she did have a bit of a temper so even if he did show up and that was okay with her parents, she’d probably hex him to oblivion before he was able to say anything. And he couldn’t even go as Padfoot because she didn’t know about that part of his life.

Sirius hit the table top hard, making the jewellery that was sitting there mocking him fall to the floor, and let loose a very loud word he was sure Mrs P wouldn’t like him using. He knew the rest of the household could hear him and quite frankly he didn’t care. So what. On top of what he was facing right now, a disapproving mother figure was the least of his worries.

His mind wandered back over the past day, how wonderful it had been when she had arrived and how her eyes had shone. He’d thought that meant she was happy, that she wanted to be there and with him. He’d thought it was all going to work out fine. He thought about the party and how, even at three in the morning he hadn’t wanted to let her go, how empty he had felt when she had finally left him for her room.

_I knew it was too good to last._

How thick did he have to have been to think someone like Laura would really have liked him? The Lauras of the world didn’t go for losers like him, they found nice clean-cut respectable boys with no baggage and married them and led good and wholesome lives. And really, if this was all it took to change her mind, then maybe she hadn’t been as keen on him as she’d let him believe. This wouldn’t be the first time wishful thinking had led him astray.

_You wanted it too much_ , that voice in the back of his head told him. _You saw things that weren’t really there._

It was the only explanation. He tried writing again, an hour or two after the first letter had been returned, but that came back unopened too. She really didn’t want to hear from him. She probably never wanted to see him again.

He hit the desk again, so hard the whole thing moved and left a dent in the wooden floor. This was such a little thing!! Why did she take it so badly? There were so many things he could have meant, that he did mean, that were the complete opposite of what she’d assumed. Did she really think that was the only way those words could have been interpreted?

And did she really think he didn’t want to touch her, hadn’t been thinking about that almost constantly for the past two weeks? He’d even marked today as the start of that next phase, assuming she was okay with that of course. The irony didn’t escape him.

As he shook his head in frustration, the voice in the back of his head spoke again, almost deafening him with its conclusion.

_Maybe you were wrong about her. Maybe she’s not what you thought she was._

I’m not wrong, he told it stubbornly. I know what she’s like. She understands me, she’s different from the others.

_Funny way of showing it, then_ , the voice shot back. _Jumping to conclusions and then refusing to listen to you afterwards._

Sirius sighed. He knew that was right, but he still believed there was another explanation. That he hadn’t been wrong about her after all. This was Laura, this was the person he’d been studying for months, been getting to know, been trying to get close to. He couldn’t have got her wrong all this time, he reasoned. This was just an aberration.

He had no idea how long he stayed up there, holed away in his room away from the rest of the household, but he knew it was a while. It took that long for him to be able to face any of them, witnesses as they were to what had to be his greatest failure. In any case, what he wanted was solitude, and he knew Prongs would understand if he just packed up and went home. There was nothing for him here anymore anyway, and seeing Prongs and Lily all cosy together would just ram home what he’d lost.

He liked this resolution, the one to go back to London, because it gave him a purpose. He moved swiftly around the room, choosing to pick things up manually and pack them rather than using magic because it felt more satisfying to actually be doing something. The jewellery she’d sent back he picked up and put in his pocket, partly because he didn’t want to lose it in case she did come to reclaim it at some point, and partly because it was the last thing she’d touched. If he tried, maybe he’d still be able to smell her on it.

“There you are, Padfoot.” James’ voice carried across the drawing room to the bottom of the stairs where Sirius had appeared. “You okay?”

Sirius just glared at him. What did he think? The girl of his dreams had just thrown him to the floor and Prongs was asking if he was okay? “I’m going,” he said briefly, hoisting his rucksack onto his shoulder. That was all he needed to say, he reasoned. The Potters would understand.

James hurried in to see him, his face concerned. “You’re going home? On the bike?”

Sirius just rolled his eyes. How else would he be going home? It wasn’t like he was about to leave the bike there, was it?

“I don’t think you should,” James said seriously. “Look, I’ll come too, okay? Just to make sure you’re all right.”

Sirius glared at him. The last thing he wanted was company. “I’m fine,” he said gruffly, heading out the back to where the bike was parked. And without another word, without even putting his scarf across his face, he climbed onto the saddle and took off.

****

The next week was torture. He wrote to Laura at least once each day, always asking her to reconsider, to remember what it was they’d shared, to take him back or at the very least let him explain. And every time the owl returned with the letter unopened. It was like a knife to his heart but he had to keep trying, because the alternative didn’t bear thinking about. They’d only been together a couple of weeks. It couldn’t be over so soon.

And if that wasn’t bad enough, he had to contend with James all the time. He kept popping around, making excuses to come visiting or practice some duelling or something. Anything that stopped Sirius from being able to take the time to just sit in the dark and feel sorry for himself, trying to remember what it had felt like to hold Laura in his arms, to have her lips and her hands on him. Hoping desperately that it wasn’t over for good. James became so annoying with his constant presence that Sirius seriously considered changing the spell on the lock so he couldn’t get in any more.

“Look, leave me alone, okay?” he protested as his friend arrived yet again.

“Not on your life,” James said, picking up the half-empty bottle of Firewhisky and putting it in the cupboard. Half empty? Really? It had been full not that long ago. “I need to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine, all right?” Sirius knew he sounded irritable but that couldn’t really be helped – it was how he felt.

“You’re anything but all right,” Prongs said, “and you’re drinking too much.” He looked at Sirius imploringly. “Look, there has to be something I can do to help. Get Lily to go over and talk to her or something?”

Sirius shook his head. This was something he needed to sort out himself. If he couldn’t talk Laura around, then he didn’t deserve her. _Not that you deserved her anyway_ , that annoying voice pointed out. But he was determined to try. “It’s my fault,” he muttered. “I was a stupid idiot. I’ll work it out.”

James looked sternly at him. “From what I can tell, mate, you’ve spent this week sitting in the corner feeling sorry for yourself, not eating enough and drinking way too much. Am I right?”

Sirius mumbled something incoherent. James was a little too close to the mark for his liking.

“And if I had to guess, I’d say you haven’t showered all week and you certainly haven’t shaved in that time.” Sirius looked up at James, who flashed him a grin as he continued. “The smell’s appalling, mate. Even if she came to the door right now to hear you out, she wouldn’t stay in the room for five minutes with you smelling like that. You have to do _something_.”

That got a reaction. If nothing else, he was going to be seeing Laura on the train on Sunday and he had to be clean and scrubbed then. Teeth brushed, too, which was something else he’d been neglecting. After all, if she’d left him, what was the point? It wasn’t like he was going to be kissing anyone …

“I’ll clean myself up by Sunday,” he said resignedly. “Promise. Okay?”

James nodded, sitting down on the floor opposite him. “Okay,” he agreed. “And no more drinking, especially if you’re not eating as well. Otherwise you’ll be floating to the platform on Sunday and I don’t think she’d like that either.”

****

Sirius got to Platform Nine and three quarters very early on Sunday, freshly washed, scrubbed and deodorised. His robes were clean and he’d made a special effort to get himself back to how he’d been on New Year’s Eve, how he was last time he’d seen Laura. He was still having trouble cracking a smile, but at least he was presentable and maybe, just maybe, when they were actually face to face she’d agree to hear him out.

“You look awful,” James said when he arrived with his parents. “Clean, but awful.”

“Thanks, mate,” Sirius said resentfully. “Appreciate the support.”

“Let’s just say you should be thanking your lucky stars that Mum’s not fussing over you for losing weight. She’s dying to, only I told her to hold off.”

“Thanks.” This time he actually meant it – the last thing he needed was Mrs P making a fuss over how skinny he’d got. The less anyone mentioned his appearance, the better it would be.

Moony and Wormtail, when they arrived, seemed to be aware of that fact and spoke to him very little. They knew what had happened, of course – they’d been at the Potters’ when she’d left – but they didn’t prod him for more information or, really, anything besides the odd observation about the weather. He suspected Prongs had warned them off anything more personal than that, figuring (correctly) that he was likely to hex them into next week if they got him offside. Of course, Wormtail forgot himself occasionally, which didn’t help.

“What’s wrong, Padfoot?” he asked innocently as Sirius stared stonily at the platform entrance, waiting for Laura to make her appearance.

“Shhh,” Moony said warningly, while James made some comment about him having a bad day. Sirius appreciated their support – now was not the time for explanations. After all, it wasn’t his fault Wormtail’s memory was like a sieve.

Finally, Laura arrived. She too looked a little pale and was sheltering with her parents, her furtive glances in his direction proving she was staying with them for the very reason that it meant he couldn’t approach her. Feeling the rejection keenly, he stayed with his friends, using their cover to conceal how much that hurt.

Of course, it didn’t help that she looked so damn good. Even with her skin pale and wan, the contrast of her hair and eyes against it was captivating and the way she pulled her robes around her just made him think of when she had allowed him to hold her, to put his hands beneath them. In other words, he knew what those robes were hiding and seeing just the hint of a curve here and there was far more alluring than something more revealing would have been.

_You had her, and then you threw her away, just by being stupid._ The harsh reality was crushing him from all sides. It was all his fault. If he hadn’t said anything that day at James’ place, if he hadn’t assumed she couldn’t hear, then she’d be getting rid of her parents and running to his arms.

He soon realised that Moony was trying to talk to him. “Did you want to say something to her?” he asked quietly.

Sirius shook his head. “Nothing to say. I was stupid and she doesn’t want anything to do with me.” Which was only half the truth, because he was dying to explain himself to her and see if she would still hold his words against him, but now clearly wasn’t the time. That part was true – she wanted nothing to do with him.

_I did think, though, that she would have heard me out by now._ The thought came unbidden into his mind as he boarded the train, and he couldn’t push it away. It was true; the Laura he’d thought he knew was fairer-minded than she was being, and would have heard his side of the story before passing judgement. Or she would have succumbed once the initial hurt had passed, letting him explain himself, rather than sending the letters back. Maybe he had been wrong about her.

She spent the whole day making a point of ignoring him, turning away whenever he faced her, to the point that, by the end of supper, he had pretty much given up. No matter what, she wasn’t going to hear him out. Those precious hours they’d shared clearly meant nothing to her, she was willing to let that be the end of it all. So much for what they’d had together, so much for what he’d hoped for in the future … so much for everything.

“The news is getting worse, mate,” James told him that night as they were getting ready for bed. “The gigglers have worked out you’re single again.”

“Great,” he muttered. “Just what I need.” His robes jangled a little as he threw them into his trunk, an unwelcome reminder of the clasp and bracelet he was keeping in there, just in case, and what they represented. This was too hard, he thought. Why did everything have to be so difficult?

“Why don’t you just talk to her?” Moony asked again. “You might sort it out.”

“Yep, you think that if it makes you happy,” Sirius said bitterly.

“I do think that,” Moony said evenly. “And I think you both need to talk.”

Sirius glared at him. “Yes, because she wants so much to do with me right now. Did you see her today? Couldn’t get away fast enough.”

She’s hurting,” Moony said quietly.

"Yeah, well, funny way of showing it,” Sirius said scathingly, pulling the curtains around his bed closed. “It’s not going to happen so you can stop suggesting it, okay?”

****

If he had thought the week before was bad, with her returning all his letters without opening them, that week was even worse, if that was possible. Seeing her every day, so close but yet so far away from him, was almost more than he could bear. He stopped going to the Great Hall at mealtimes, not only to avoid seeing her but also to avoid the gigglers, instead munching numbly on whatever food scraps Wormtail would bring him up from the kitchen. He went to classes only because he’d get detention if he didn’t, and barely bothered with bathing, shaving or any sort of personal grooming. What was the point? He’d been doing it for her, and she didn’t care. Really, what was the point of anything?

The others tried to keep his spirits up in every way they could think of, but had only limited success. Moony in particular kept trying to point out Laura wasn’t eating either, or looking after herself, and her homework was suffering, but all Sirius got from that was a vague sense of satisfaction that at least it was taking her a bit of time to get over him. He was sure it would be much less than the time it took him to get over her, but that was by the by these days. Irrelevant. The only thing he knew was real was the fact that he would have to get over her, because there was no other way he was going to keep functioning as a human being.

_She’s not worth it_ , he kept telling himself. _If she was the person you’d thought she was, she would have heard you out before jumping to conclusions like she did. You were wrong about her._

It felt a bit better, thinking of it like that, but then he had to deal with his own failures in judgement and that wasn’t much fun either. At least, though, if he had been wrong about her, then he didn’t need to regret what had happened. He’d tried, it hadn’t worked, he would move on.

Eventually.

****

It was Friday when Lily came rushing up to find him. “Sirius! Come with me!”

He scowled at her, not really wanting to be with anyone just then. “What for?”

“I’ve got Laura,” she said, taking an arm and giving him a meaningful look. “She’s willing to talk to you.”

He pulled away from her. “And what if I don’t want to talk to her?”

James grabbed his arm again. “Don’t be stupid, mate,” he said firmly. “You know you want to talk to her, and even if you think you don’t we’re going to make you. This has to be sorted out. You’re both being nightmares.”

“Thanks,” Sirius said bitterly. “Appreciate that.” His voice sounded strange, even to him, and he recognised it was probably because he hadn’t been using it much that week.

“I don’t care what you do and don’t appreciate right now, to be honest,” James said, finally seeing fit to let go of him. “You need to talk to her, and you need to listen to what she has to say. And if she’s willing to try it, you have to be too.”

Sirius shook his head. “It’s not going to do any good,” he pointed out. “It’s not going to change anything.”

Lily stood her ground. “You don’t know that until you try,” she said, her expression matching James’. “If you don’t manage to sort things out, at least you’ve tried. If you do, then …” She let her voice trail off.

Sirius stared at her. While he knew nothing would come of this, that it would just cement what had been abundantly clear all week, part of him was drawn in by her last remark. What if he and Laura could sort things out? What if it could actually work? What if he could hold her again, feel her respond to his touch? The temptation was almost too much to resist.

“Okay,” he said finally, grateful the reluctance that was still in his voice didn’t give away what he’d just been thinking. “Not that it’ll achieve anything, but I’ll go.”

Lily beamed at him. “Fantastic!”

“No promises, mind,” he warned her, not wanting to get his own hopes up, let alone hers.

James stepped in front of him. “Right, mate, give us your wand first. I don’t trust you two not to hex each other into next week.”

Sirius sighed. He should have known, and right now he wasn’t in the mood to argue. “Okay, here you go.” He pulled it out and handed it over, wondering if it was really necessary, if he actually could hex Laura if it came to it. Somehow, he thought not.

Lily beamed again and took his arm. “Right, she’s on the fifth floor, so come this way ...”


	16. Mrs Potter - A simple explanation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March 1978 - Easter holidays

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry for the long wait between chapters here. What's happened is that I've got a couple of chapters that slot in before this one - specifically, Valentine's Day and the Shrieking Shack - but the're not in a state that I'm comfortable posting them and my head just isn't in the right place at the moment to fix them up. I've tried, but it's not happening. So I figured I'd just post the rest of them, and should I get to the point where I am happy with those chapters I'll insert them later.
> 
> cheers Mel

I went out onto the balcony for some fresh air – always a good idea when my son had been throwing Dungbombs around – and was surprised to see Sirius there, staring moodily off into the distance. I was about to ask what was wrong when I spotted something in his hand: a photograph of the girlfriend. What was her name again? Laura, yes, that was it. I’d met her at Christmas time and she seemed a nice enough girl, and he was noticeably smitten.

“You miss her, don’t you?” I asked gently. He started at my voice, obviously unaware he’d had company, and automatically covered the photo with his hand. It was a little crumpled around the edges and also a little torn, and I suspected that it usually lived in his pocket, always close to him.

“Who?” That was like him, he was never much of a talker about those things most important to him.

“Laura,” I said, going to stand next to him and gazing over the forest that bordered our property. “When did you see her last?”

He followed my gaze, probably pleased to avoid eye contact. He was clearly hurting, much as he tried to hide it. “Tuesday,” he said eventually. “I guess I’m not used to not having her around.”

“And when will you see her next?” I asked gently.

His face broke into a grin, lighting up in a way that changed the look of him entirely. “Tuesday,” he said again. “She’s coming to stay.” He turned an eager face to me – plainly he couldn’t wait. I resisted the temptation to ask how many hours away her arrival was, though I was sure he’d be able to tell me.

I smiled: his enthusiasm was infectious. This girl was very obviously more than a fling, something I had already suspected from his behaviour during the Christmas holidays, both before and after her departure. I had seen the same symptoms in James when it came to Lily, and was thrilled that both my sons – yes, I did think of Sirius like that – had found girls they could be happy with.

What I wasn’t sure of, though, was whether Laura herself was aware of it. Sirius never talked much about personal things and I would have hated for this girl to not realise what she meant to him, possibly even breaking it off as a result of things left unsaid, as she had done at the start of the year. That had caused too much unnecessary pain to everyone involved. So I thought I’d come straight out and say it. “Does she know you love her?”

He shook his head. “I don’t …” But then his voice trailed off and he involuntarily looked at the photo in his hand. “Do I?” He paused, his eyes flicking to me, his voice little more than a whisper. “Is that what this is?”

It almost broke my heart. He had seen so much, overcome so much, but a childhood almost devoid of love, even between his parents, had meant that he had so little experience of it that he didn’t even realise what it was when he was feeling it. And he obviously was feeling it. 

I gave him a motherly hug, feeling almost dwarfed by his tall frame. “Can you see yourself living without her?”

He shook his head mutely, staring unseeingly in front of him.

“Is she more important to you than James?” How tragic that my son had previously been the most important person in his life. Those parents of his had so much to answer for.

He nodded, still not able to look at me.

“Do you want to spend the rest of your life with her?”

He nodded again, stealing another look at the photo in his hand.

I put my hand on his arm. “Then I think you know the answer,” I said quietly, and turned around to go back inside.

He let me go, but once inside I looked back through the window at him. He had the picture out again and was staring at it intently, and I guessed that he was going through what he felt for her in his head, getting used to even the idea of love. I was sure that he’d never even considered that was what he was feeling before I had mentioned it, but I was also sure that before the holidays were over he would have said the words to Laura. And hopefully she would say them back to him. Merlin only knew he deserved to have a bit of love in his life.


	17. Sirius: What is love?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March 1978

I’ve just been talking to Mrs Potter about, well, love. Which is a bit strange because it’s not something I ever thought I’d be talking to anyone about. Let’s face it, I’m the last person anyone should talk to about love, because I’ve never really seen it. Well, I’ve seen parental love, which is what Mum and Dad seem to have for Regulus and, I suppose, once had for me, and what Mrs Potter definitely has for James. And maybe even for me, if I should be so lucky. And I can understand fraternal love, because you could say that’s what I have for Prongs and Moony and even Wormtail, and even a bit for Regulus. But romantic love? When have I seen that?

Not between my parents, let me say that much. Their marriage was more a business arrangement than anything else, their role to provide some lovely respectable pure-blood heirs and make sure the name continues, particularly after Uncle Cygnus and Aunt Druella had all girls. They’ve had separate bedrooms for as long as I can remember, and as far as I’m concerned we don’t have evidence that they ever shagged more than twice. And yes, the Potters did seem to have it, but they were together so long it was more of a comfortable thing they had going rather than a romantic one.

What about my cousins? Well, Bella might love Rodolphus, but again that was a political match rather than anything else. Andromeda does love Ted Tonks, that much I can guarantee, but they hardly show it when I’m around. I don’t even see Ted that much, he’s not keen on catching up with any of her family, even when they’ve been disinherited too. And I wasn’t around to watch Narcissa with Lucius Malfoy, not outside the confines of school anyway, and I certainly didn’t have enough interest to really see what it is.

And then there’s Prongs and Lily, but I feel too much like an intruder to pay that too much attention. Wormtail’s the voyeur, he can watch them, but I don’t feel comfortable doing it.

I didn’t learn about love as a kid, either. As a male Black, I wasn’t supposed to know much about it. My job was to make a socially and politically acceptable marriage and provide heirs to carry on the name, my duty to the family first and foremost. It’s best if Black men don’t know about love, because then they’ll never know what they’re missing.

So I don’t have much to compare it with, what I’ve got with Laura. I do know she’s special. I know she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me – not that that’s saying much. Probably the second best was being Sorted into Gryffindor and making some decent friends. I know that right now I miss her so much that it hurts. And I know that I don’t want to go through my life without her. It’s like she found a hole in me somewhere and climbed into it and filled me with all these feelings that I’d never had before, like compassion and tenderness and that thing where you wonder whether anything you have ever done or will ever do is good enough for them.

But I don’t know if that’s love. Is that what it is, being totally consumed by someone? Being happier than you can ever remember being because of them? Never wanting to be apart from them? Because when I hold her, I don’t want to let go. Ever. And I want everyone to know she’s mine, because I still can’t quite believe that someone as amazing as her would want to be with a berk like me, so if everyone knows it then it must be true. And it’s not just the sex – though that’s incredible – it’s, well, her. Everything about her intrigues me and compels me and turns me on. I don’t even know how I lived those years before we got together, it’s like they were empty in comparison. She fills me up.

Maybe it is love. Mrs Potter seems to think so. She said that if Laura’s the most important person in the world to me, if I want to spend the rest of my life with her, then I love her. And I do want to spend the rest of my life with her, I’ve known that for ages. And I think she feels the same way. She looks at me with those eyes full of tenderness and affection and … maybe that’s love as well.

I hope so. Because if she doesn’t love me back, I don’t know what I’ll do.

I’ll tell her when she comes over this week. If I can get the courage up: somehow, when it’s most important, my nerve always seems to fail me. Not because she discourages me in any way – she doesn’t, not at all – but because the alternative is too awful to contemplate. I had that with asking her out in the first place, because I can take rejection from just about anyone but I don’t think I could take it from her. And this is similar, I think, because if I say those words and she doesn’t say them back … I don’t want to think about it.

She’ll say it. She has to.

Wish me luck.

 


	18. In the shadow of death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> April 1978

In the shadow of death

April 1978

 

Sirius picked up the letter that Laura had dropped and started reading it aloud. “Laura, what’s going on? I don’t know where you’re staying but if you’re not with the Macdonalds you may not have heard. I’ve just been at the their house after word came in at work that someone had seen a Dark Mark above it …” He paused, horrified. “The Dark Mark? Above Mary’s house? But that must mean …”

“There’s more,” Laura whispered, clutching at him like she thought he was going to run away.

He turned back to the letter and continued reading. “A Dark Mark was reported above it, and Bev, Mary and Andrew are there – who’re Bev and Andrew?” he asked.

“Her mum and her brother,” she said.

Sirius nodded. “Right. I met her, on Tuesday, didn’t I?” He looked back at the letter. “Bev, Mary and Andrew are there … I’m sorry, Laura, they’re all dead. Do you know anything about what happened? Is this why you wouldn’t stay with them? Are you even still alive?” Unable to take it in, he dropped the letter and wrapped both arms protectively around Laura. “I don’t believe it. They’ve killed Mary.”

She shook her head. “Not Mary. They haven’t killed Mary. They can’t have.”

He looked seriously at her. “Would your dad lie to you about something like this?”

She shook her head again and hiccoughed, her eyes bright. “She can’t be dead. I was only there last night, she was fine. She can’t be. It can’t be true.”

“I don’t want to believe it either,” he admitted.

“I have to go home,” she said with feeling. “Dad will tell me it was all a mistake, that they’re all fine. He has to. It can’t be true.”

“Of course,” he said. “I’ll take you to Bristol, okay?”

Once Laura had disappeared inside her parents’ house, Sirius summoned up what energy he had left and Disapparated to the Potters'. It was much closer than home and, anyway, James needed to know what had happened, if he didn’t already. After he appeared on the driveway, he pushed himself one more time and reached the front door.

“Padfoot!” James said when he opened the door, clearly surprised. “What are you doing here?” He paused has he took in his friend’s face. “Jeez, mate, what’s wrong?”

Sirius was just conscious enough to realise that he must indeed look bad, if James was forgoing the usual security questions. In any case he just looked at his friend, feeling incredibly helpless. “Mary’s been killed.”

The colour drained from James’ face. “What?!?!”

Deciding that answering was unnecessary, Sirius pushed past him and collapsed on an armchair in the sitting room. James quickly followed him. “What happened?” 

“Laura got an owl from her dad this morning,” Sirius said, his voice flat. “Seems the whole family got AK’d overnight – Mary, her mum, her brother.”

“No, she can’t be,” James protested faintly, sounding eerily like Laura had an hour or so earlier. “Not Mary.”

“Seems so,” Sirius muttered.

“So where’s Laura now?” James shepherded his friend inside and closed the door behind them.

“Took her home,” Sirius said, still dully. “They didn’t know if she was even alive, she had to go back.”

James looked like he was having trouble taking it all in. “So, if you took her home, does that mean that they know about you now?”

Sirius shook his head. “Walked her to the house as Padfoot, waited across the road while she went in. She’s taking it really badly.”

James nodded. “I imagine she is,” he said. “I can’t believe it. Mary.” He paused before speaking again. “Why?”

Sirius shrugged. “Her brother was about to marry a Muggle-born, I think that’s probably why,” he said. “But I don’t know any more than I’ve just told you.”

James was shaking his head in disbelief. “Mary. Oh, crap,” he went on suddenly, “Lils won’t know, will she?” He turned his head and yelled through the house. “MUM!!”

The elderly form of Mrs Potter soon appeared. “Sirius!” she said, beaming. “What are you doing here? Oh, dear,” she went on as he turned to face her, “something’s happened, hasn’t it? Is it Laura again?”

James answered for him, a small favour for which he was extremely grateful. “No, Laura’s fine,” he said. “Well, not fine, but it’s not that. Mary Macdonald, from school, she’s been killed.”

Mrs Potter gasped and hurried over to give both boys a hug. “Was it the Death Eaters?” she asked quietly.

“Dark Mark over the house and everything,” Sirius said, swallowing hard. “She was Laura’s best friend. She was covering for us because Laura’s parents don’t know about me. And she got killed.”

“I have to tell Lils,” James said seriously. “Wait here, okay?” And without waiting for an answer, he turned on the spot and disappeared.

Sirius, now sitting on the sofa with Mrs Potter, was grateful for the maternal comfort she provided. He prided himself on being able to look after himself, but in times like this a bit of extra assistance was certainly appreciated. He’d been focusing so hard on making sure Laura was okay that he’d not been attending to his own needs, and he let himself just collapse into her embrace.

“Do you want to stay here for a little while?” Mrs Potter asked quietly. “We can get your old room ready in a second.”

He just nodded dumbly. Being alone at this point in time definitely did not appeal to him.

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

“Laura got an owl this morning with the news,” he said automatically. “I took her home. I came here.” He shook his head. “I still can’t believe it, though,” he went on. “Mary.”

“And how’s Laura?” she asked.

“Devastated,” he said, then he shook his head. “I don’t really know. I wish I did. But she went home pretty much straight away – she had to, her parents thought she might be dead too.” He felt tears forming in his eyes and wiped them away. “She was supposed to be there last night,” he said weakly. “At Mary’s. But she was with me instead. I can’t imagine what it would be like if she’d been there.”

That would have to be his worst nightmare – Laura getting killed like that. He didn’t know if he’d be able to take it if that happened. She had to be kept safe. There was no other option.

“So you saved her life,” Mrs Potter said. Sirius started – he hadn’t thought of it like that. It helped: only a little, but it did help. He felt the tiniest bit better about it.

Popsy, the house elf, brought in a tray of hot chocolate and biscuits and he just sat there numbly, munching on a biscuit without really tasting it, until James came back. Mrs Potter, obviously realising he wanted quiet, seemed happy to sit there, holding him in her motherly way, as he waited.

It wasn’t long afterwards that James reappeared, bringing with him not only Lily but Remus and Peter as well. “Thought we needed the gang together,” he said grimly. “How’re you doing, Padfoot?”

“I’m here.” There didn’t seem to be much else he could say and be telling the truth. “It’s just so – unbelievable.”

Lily’s eyes were red. “You’re sure about this, Sirius? Mary’s really …”

Sirius nodded. “Seems so,” he said for the second time that morning. “Though it’s not like I actually went to the house to check.”

“I sent an owl off to the Ministry to find out,” James said seriously. “Not that we don’t believe you, mate, but I thought it would be good to get the official line on this.”

Sirius just nodded, watching dumbly as Peter helped himself to some biscuits. He could understand the action – even if Peter wasn’t someone who would invariably go for any available food, it did feel good to be doing something. Anything.

Before long Mr Potter joined them and they sat there, in the Potters’ sitting room, waiting for confirmation, for anything that would make this feel real. Lily had stopped hiccoughing but she was hanging onto James for dear life, and Remus and Peter seemed to be taking guard, watching out the window from their armchairs as though that would make the owl come back more quickly. Sirius had no idea how long they were sitting there silently, but he appreciated the company. He would have like to be holding onto Laura the way Prongs was holding onto Lily, since the only way he could make sure she was safe was if she was with him, but given that was impossible he was pleased that the guys were there. If anything could make this easier, it was that.

Finally, the owl reappeared. James impatiently grabbed the parchment from its leg and began to read aloud.

“Dear Mr Potter,” he read. “I regret to inform you that your information is correct. The family of Beverley Macdonald, Andrew Macdonald and Mary Macdonald was indeed attacked in the small hours of this morning. There were no survivors. Please accept my condolences for your loss.” He looked up. “That was short and to the point,” he said hoarsely. “Guess it’s the form letter you get if this happens.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, mate,” he said finally, looking at Sirius. “Good thing she wasn’t there, wasn’t it?”

“So she’s really gone,” Sirius muttered. “Mary, that is. Merlin’s beard.” He rubbed his eyes. “Thank bloody heck Laura wasn’t there,” he went on fiercely. He didn’t even want to think about what that would have meant.

“I can’t believe it,” Lily said, tears streaming down her face. “Not Mary. She was so full of life!”

“It happens, unfortunately,” Remus said thickly. He looked at Sirius. “Do we know why?”

Sirius shrugged. “There was going to be an inter-marriage,” he explained. “Brother engaged to a Muggle-born. That’s all I can think of.”

“So it was a warning,” Remus said. “Merlin. It’s just so unbelievable.”

“There’ll be a funeral, I assume,” James said slowly. “Maybe even before we go back to school. That’d be good – I’d like to go.”

His parents looked at him fondly. “Even if it’s held after you’ve gone back, you can come back for the funeral,” Mr Potter said. “You need to pay your last respects. It’s only right.”

James just nodded, his face sombre, as he tried to console Lily who was weeping on his shoulder. “We’re all going,” he said eventually. “This is Mary we're talking about. It’s the least we can do.”

****

A couple of hours later, Sirius was surprised to receive an owl from Laura. Not that he thought she wouldn’t contact him, but he did think that her parents wouldn’t have been keen on the idea. On opening it, though, he saw why.

Will be taking the dog to the park around the corner at 3pm. Anticipate doing the same every day. Wouldn’t mind some company if you can make it.  
L

He looked at his watch; it was quarter to three. “I’m off,” he told James. “Going to meet Laura.”

James looked surprised. “Her folks are okay with that?”

Sirius shrugged. “No idea. She asked me to go so I’m going.” Truth be told, he really wanted to see how she was coping with this, whether he would be able to help her in any way.

When he got to Bristol, he transformed back into dog form and made his way to Laura’s house, sitting in a shady spot across the road until she emerged, trying to restrain an excited cocker spaniel that was trying to get off its lead.

She looked terrible – well, as terrible as she could look, anyway. Her face was tearstained, her eyes red and swollen, her hair tied back in a messy bundle that looked like she was just trying to get it out of the way, and she’d thrown a black jacket over her other clothes. In short, she looked like someone who was grieving.

Once she’d rounded the corner he caught up to her, silently falling into step with her and the cocker spaniel. The other dog sniffed at him and then growled a little, perhaps figuring that he wasn’t a real dog, but he ignored it. He wasn’t there for the spaniel, he was there for Laura.

When they got to the park she had in mind, she undid the leash from the cocker spaniel’s collar and sat down on the grass, looking exhausted. Sirius transformed back to human form and conjured up a rug for them to sit on – the ground was wet, it must have been raining – before helping her get onto it. She was having trouble with the most basic movements, everything seeming forced and laboured, but once settled on the rug she relaxed into his arms with even more fervour than usual, putting her weight on him and wrapping both arms around him, much more tightly than usual, like she was scared she was going to lose him too. They didn’t even talk, he just sat with her, holding her, trying to make this just a little bit easier and trying to help her make sense of something that was in every way senseless.

“Thank you for coming,” she whispered eventually, sounding like it was a huge effort. “I can’t do this alone.”

He just tightened his hold on her and kissed the top of her head. “You don’t have to,” he promised. “I’ll come whenever you want me to.”

She looked up at him gratefully, her eyes still wet from the tears she was shedding, but she didn’t say anything else. She didn’t need to. He understood.

After an hour or so, with the clouds gathering overhead, she called her dog back and started preparing to go back home again. Sirius Vanished the rug he’d conjured and obediently became Padfoot again, walking with her back to the house. Just before the corner of her street she bent over and kissed his head, ruffling the fur with her hands. “Thank you,” she whispered again. “Tomorrow?” He barked his agreement and wagged his tail, and then sat on the corner watching as she disappeared into her house.

“How’s she doing?” James asked when he reappeared at the Potter house.

Sirius shrugged. “Struggling,” he admitted. “She just wanted some company – away from her folks, that is.”

James nodded. “I’m not surprised. And how are you doing?”

He shrugged again. “Don’t really know,” he said – his own ability to cope wasn’t something he’d been paying much attention to.

“Well, stay here for a couple of days, okay?” James suggested. “Go back to pack for school, but that’s it. You probably need the company too.”

Sirius just nodded, not having the energy to argue. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

****

He saw Laura again in virtually identical circumstances in the next couple of days, and each time he got more and more worried about her. She was looking very pale and gaunt, like she wasn’t eating, and he wanted nothing more than to take her back to James’ place and get some of the house elf’s food into her. It was doing him some good, it would have to do the same for her, wouldn’t it? She also seemed to be holding on to him with more and more desperation each day, like she didn’t want to ever let go, and while he appreciated it he was concerned for her strength of mind. Laura had always been someone who didn’t like to rely too much on other people; now she was falling apart before his eyes. And there was nothing he could do about it.

“Make sure you look after yourself, okay?” he ventured on the third day, the day before the Macdonalds’ funeral would be held. They had all received notification from the school about not only the events of the previous week but the fact that the funeral would be held in London on Sunday morning, and the Hogwarts Express would depart an hour later than usual to allow students and staff to attend.

She looked up at him. “Does it really matter anymore?”

“Of course it matters,” he said, giving her a quick kiss on the temple so it didn’t seem too much like he was preaching to her. “I don’t want you wasting away to nothing.”

She just shrugged. “I just don’t feel very hungry, you know?”

“Try then, okay?” he asked. “For me, if nothing else.”

She turned her face to his, her eyes looking very large and very dark against the pale skin. “I’ll try.” It seemed like as much as he was going to get from her, so he accepted it. Maybe it would be enough, he thought. It was bad enough trying to cope with what had happened to Mary, without Laura getting ill as well.

As they were preparing to leave the park that day, the cocker spaniel still eyeing Sirius suspiciously, Laura suddenly turned to him. “You’re coming to the funeral, right?” 

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

“Mum and Dad are coming,” she said, her frustration evident in her voice. “And Bea. I mean, they have to, they knew all of them for years. But I can’t tell them about you now, not with this as well. It’s too much to deal with.”

He nodded. He knew what was coming next; that they would have to be separated for the final farewell to the Macdonalds, that he wouldn’t be able to be with her when she said her final goodbyes. It was a cruel blow.

“It’ll help if you’re there, though,” she said quietly. “I’m glad you’re coming. Even if we can’t really talk to each other.”

“There’s the train ride afterwards,” he pointed out. “And then the whole term. Lots of time to talk.”

She fell into his arms again, clutching at him like her life depended on it, tears trickling down her cheeks. He could only just make out the whispered words, but he knew what she was saying anyway. “Thank you.”

****

They arrived early the next morning, all in one group, ready to farewell the Macdonalds. Lily had got Martha and Charlotte to join them, and they stood together, a group of seven that should have been eight or nine, united in grief.

Laura arrived a little later, her family in tow, and Sirius felt a jolt as he realised just what it meant to love someone. She looked so pained that it hurt him to even watch her, feeling everything that she was feeling, the pain and the grief and the loss, on top of his existing frustration that there was nothing he could do for her. Even worse, she looked even paler and thinner than she had the day before, which meant that although she might have tried to eat something, she hadn’t succeeded. On top of everything else, it was a blow. He felt sure that if they could be together he would be able to make it hurt just a little less, make things just that little bit more bearable for her, but it was impossible, and the accompanying feeling of helplessness was something he didn’t want to have to get used to.

He hated feeling helpless. He was always happiest when he was active, being productive, able to contribute. And just having to stand by and watch as the girl he loved suffered in front of him, not being able to do anything about it, had to be one of the worst sensations in the world.

It got even worse when Lily ran up to her and gave her a hug, and they had what felt like a ridiculously long conversation, punctuated with tears and more hugs. I should be the one doing that, he thought bitterly. I should be the one who’s being there for her. But he knew that he couldn’t, that she couldn’t face that explanation to her parents at this time, so he had to do what he’d been doing all along. Nothing.

“I hate this,” he muttered to no one in particular. “I need to be doing something.”

“There’s nothing we can do,” James pointed out. “Just be here, I guess.”

Once Lily came back Laura was taken to one of the pews, her mum holding her arm to guide her. Seeing some empty spaces directly behind them, Sirius made a beeline for them – if he couldn’t be with her, he could at least be there for her. She seemed to be able to sense him, too, because no sooner had he settled directly behind her than she dropped her hand back behind the pew, letting him hold it, squeeze it, reassure her that he was there. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

She seemed to be holding it together a bit better than he’d feared, too. He had thought she might break down entirely, not getting through the service, but while her shoulders shook occasionally she looked like she’d make it. He was relieved by that; not only did it mean that she was indeed coping better than he’d thought, but it also meant that he’d not imagined her strength. If she could get through something like this, she could probably get through just about anything, and in the current climate that was becoming increasingly important.

Afterwards, they milled around like everyone else, waiting for enough time to pass so they could get to the station. Sirius knew that the Cauldwells would take Laura there themselves, rather than letting her make her own way, but he also knew that once on the train he could have her to himself again and look after her the way she deserved to be looked after. So again he bided his time, watching her, just waiting till he could pull her to him again and comfort her properly.

“Is she alright?” James asked, also watching her as she started to get somewhat hysterical, shouting about how unfair it all was.

Sirius shrugged. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Maybe it’s part of the shock or something.”

“I think that’s exactly what it is,” Mrs Potter said, coming to join them. “It’s a normal part of grieving. I don’t think it’s anything to get worried about.”

Sirius looked at her gratefully. “Thanks,” he said, unable to find the words to make it more heartfelt but hoping that she’d understand all the same. She understood him pretty well, he realised. It was probably a safe bet.

Mrs Potter was looking at him curiously. “When can you go to her?”

He shrugged. “As soon as her folks get out of the way. Plus maybe five seconds.”

“Well, I hope that’s soon,” she said sympathetically. “I think she needs you.”

He looked back at Laura and met her gaze, her wet eyes appearing bright in the dim room. She glanced despairingly at her father and then looked back at him, and he knew that Mrs P was right. The sooner they got on that train and away from prying eyes, the better it would be. For both of them.

Finally it was time. “We all ready?” James asked, looking authoritatively around the group. “Everyone got everything?”

They all nodded and, on James’ signal, they all Apparated to the alley next to Kings Cross station. They’d piled their cases at the end of it, hidden by a Disillusionment Charm, and it was with relief that they saw everything was exactly where they’d left it. Before long they were all making their way into the station, heading towards the barrier.

Once through, it was easy enough to find Laura again. He’d know that voice anywhere. “I’ll be fine, Mum,” she was saying, her voice still unsteady. “Look, here are my friends. They’ll take care of me. We’ll be fine.”

Mrs Cauldwell looked them all over, and Sirius was glad to be just one of a group rather than coming for her alone. It would make explanations so much easier for her. In any case it didn’t seem to matter, as Laura’s mum decided to single out Lily, who may well have been the only one she really knew.

“Look after her, won’t you?” she asked quietly. “She’s not coping very well.”

“We’ll all look after her, Mrs Cauldwell,” Lily said with as much firmness as she was able to muster under the circumstances. “She’s in good hands.”

Laura’s mum nodded and stepped back, to where Mr Cauldwell was standing in the shadows. “Take care, Laura,” she said. “And please come home.”

Laura gave her a hug, tears spilling down her cheeks again. “I promise, Mum. But I really do have to go now. Really, I’ll be fine.”

And that was it. A couple of hugs later and Laura was finally out of her parents’ sight, taking her suitcase onto the train followed by Lily, then Martha, then Charlotte, before any of the boys went near her. It was a show of solidarity amongst the Gryffindors, but they all knew that it was also a temporary smokescreen, that as soon as they were all on that train Sirius would be the one she would turn to. He gave a small smile as he followed her into a compartment and pulled down the window coverings, hiding them from both the corridor and the platform.

Charlotte stood at the door watching them as Laura fell wordlessly into his arms, finally letting him comfort her in the way he’d been dying to all along. “You heard her mum,” Charlotte said, half a smile on her face. “Look after her.”

He looked up and nodded before turning his attention back to Laura, who felt even more fragile than usual in his arms, and who was still shaking with the occasional sob. It was strange how much being able to be with her made him feel better, even though he was supposed to be the one consoling her – somehow the comforting went both ways. “It’s okay,” he murmured, leaning in a little so he could kiss her tears away. “I’m here now. It’s okay.”

She gazed at him, her eyes still wet, her face still pale, her hands clutching at him like she thought that if she let go, he might disappear too. “I know,” she whispered, even that sounding laboured, though she attempted a smile and he knew she was trying her hardest to get through it all. “I know.”


	19. A confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> June 1978

Charlotte opened the door tentatively. She knew Remus was in the hospital wing, but she wasn’t sure how he would receive her. In fact, she had no idea what he thought of her at all, but she just needed to make sure he was all right.

She saw him immediately, towards the end of the long room, a number of bandages visible on his arms and torso. He looked much worse than she’d thought, from James’ description, and she wondered whether even Madam Pomfrey would be able to fix him up again. It wasn’t clear if he was really up to a bit of company, but then again she was here now. If she chickened out, she might never come back. Taking a deep breath and steeling herself, she walked into the room.

“Are you okay?” she asked tentatively as she reached his bedside. “The boys said you were in here after a rough night, but I had no idea how bad it was.” She sat down in the visitor’s chair and looked concernedly at his injuries. “Who … _what_ did this to you?”

He smiled a little ruefully at her, one eye black and swollen, cuts on his bottom lip. “Could have been worse,” he said simply, looking like it was a bit of effort speaking at all. “Don’t worry, I’ll be out of here in no time.”

“But what happened?” She would have loved to have been able to make some flippant remark, something Martha might have said, but it wasn’t in her nature and she was far too worried about him to make light of his condition.

“Nothing much,” he said. “And nothing I couldn’t handle.”

She found herself reaching for his hand. “At least exams are over,” she said, unable to think past what it might have meant for his future if he’d been in this state for those. “But what happened?” She realised she’d asked the same question over and over, but he hadn’t given her a real answer and she needed to know. And she needed to know why, if he was this badly hurt, his friends didn’t seem more concerned about him. Why were they joking around in the Great Hall instead of sitting in here with him? Why weren’t they worried?

He pulled himself up to sitting a bit higher against the pillows and gestured to the table just behind her. “Would you mind passing me that shirt?” he asked. Dumbly, she handed it over, and watched with almost a little revulsion as he clearly put himself in even more pain as he tried to put it on. Finally she couldn’t watch any more and reached over to help, easing one arm in and doing up the buttons, thinking to herself that if she’d ever imagined doing this for him, it was in far more agreeable circumstances. “Thanks,” he said when she was done. “If you can’t see it, you don’t worry so much.”

She was appalled at how matter-of-fact he was being about the whole thing, like he was regularly beaten to a pulp by persons or creatures unknown. She was quickly realising, though, that this was something that he wasn’t going to share with her, and couldn’t decide if she was upset by this or merely resigned. Eventually, she settled on the latter.

“This is something you’re not going to tell me about, isn’t it?” she said sadly. “It’s okay. I understand.”

He looked pained, and she got the impression this wasn’t just because of the condition he was in. Finally, though, after almost a minute of silence, he seemed to come to a decision. “No, that’s not fair on you,” he said. “You deserve to know.”

She gripped his hand again, barely daring to believe her ears. “Really?”

He sat up even straighter, and looked around the room. There was no one else in there, but he still seemed dissatisfied. “Madam Pomfrey’s okay,” he muttered, then looked at Charlotte again. “Do you have your wand on you?”

She nodded. “Of course.”

“If anyone else comes in here, can you _Muffliato_ them? I don’t want anyone else overhearing this.”

She nodded again, wondering what on earth could be so secret that he was being so paranoid about it. “Of course I will. Shall I do the door anyway, so no one can hear through it?”

He nodded gratefully. “Good idea.” He waited patiently while she went to the door, opened it and looked out to see if there was anyone around, then closed it again and cast the spell on it.

“All done,” she said, wondering if she should be feeling happy or apprehensive about this. While she’d been dying for him to share whatever his secret was with her, the fact that he was taking it all so seriously meant that she was now feeling more than a little trepidation as to what the secret might actually be.

“You have to promise not to tell this to _anyone_ ,” Remus said when she sat down again, looking very seriously at her. “I trust you, but it’s not something I want getting out.”

She nodded. “I understand,” she said, while all the time wondering if she actually did.

“And I’m sorry I never told you before,” he said, “but it’s not exactly the easiest thing to talk about.”

She looked at him, worried. “You’re not dying or anything, are you?”

He smiled wryly, though it was almost unrecognisable beneath his bruised and swollen features. “If only it was that simple. It might even be a relief. But no, not in the foreseeable future. Not that I know about, anyway.”

“Right.” She wasn’t sure what to make of that. “So, what is it?”

Remus settled back on his pillows a little. “Charlotte, what’s the date today?”

She thought about that. “June twenty-first.”

“And what’s the lunar date? What’s the moon doing at the moment?”

She stared at him. “No idea,” she admitted. “Why?”

He grinned ruefully again. “The lunar date is something I always know,” he said, without a trace of humour in his voice. “I kind of need to.” He paused, as though waiting for her to say something, but she didn’t really know what to say so she just kept quiet. Not long afterwards he started speaking again. “Last night was the full moon. What does that mean?”

“You can pick fluxweed for Potions,” she said automatically. “Astronomy class is really easy. Werewolves come out and attack the helpless.”

He held up a hand. “Say that last one again.”

She looked at him, confused. “What, about werewolves? They transform under the full moon, everyone knows that.”

He was silent for a moment, just watching her. Still confused, she stared back, until suddenly she realised what he must be implying. “Oh, Remus! You’re not saying …”

He kept watching her, and when he spoke again his voice was quiet. “Would you hate me if I was?”

She was still staring; she felt like she’d lost the ability to move. “You’re a … you’re a _werewolf_?”

He hesitated for a split second, then nodded. “Unfortunately, yes.” He pulled his hand away from her and looked at the wall in front of him. “You can leave now if you want to. I won’t be offended.”

She grabbed his hand again, horrified not only by his revelation but that he’d feel the need to dismiss her like that. “I’m not leaving,” she said. “Do people really do that?”

He turned slowly towards her again. “Yes, they do. But it’s okay. I’m used to it by now.” He smiled wryly. “I think James, Sirius and Peter were the first ones who didn’t, actually. Kind of explains why we’re so close, doesn’t it?”

She was still taking it all in. “So, if you’re a – a werewolf,” she said slowly, forcing herself to say the word without wincing at what it implied, “that doesn’t explain why you’re so badly hurt. Did you get attacked or something?”

“Nothing so dramatic, I’m afraid.” He seemed to have relaxed a little now she’d made it clear she was staying. “I get isolated when I transform – it’s safer for everyone that way. Thing is that because I don’t have anyone I can attack, I tend to attack myself instead. All this you see is pretty much self-inflicted.” He winced a little as he spoke and put a hand gingerly to his eye. “It happens every four weeks. Like I said, I’m used to it by now.”

“And that’s why the boys weren’t worried about you,” she said. “Right, that makes more sense now. When I came in I thought you were dying or something.”

“They’ve already seen me,” he said, waving it off. “They know I’ll be back on my feet in no time. Normally I’m okay by about lunch time; occasionally it can take the whole day, but it’s not too bad. And at least it’s only me I’m attacking, not anyone else.”

Tears came to her eyes as she realised what he was saying. What a horrible responsibility he had, to ensure that when he was not himself that the rest of the people around him were safe. What a burden he had had to bear all these years.

“How long?” she asked quietly. “When did it happen?”

“Bit over thirteen years. I was not quite five. I hardly remember not being like this.” He took a breath and looked beseechingly at her. “I’m sorry, Charlotte, but I couldn’t risk hurting you. It’s not safe, getting too close to people.”

“But you’re close to James and Sirius and Peter,” she said accusingly. “Why are they so different?”

“Trust me, they are. They can take care of themselves. You’re something else entirely.” He paused again. “Do you hate me?”

She hesitated. “I don’t hate you,” she said finally, “but this is going to take a bit of time to get used to.” She looked at him anew. “But you’ve been like this the whole time I’ve known you, right?”

He nodded. “Yes, I have.”

She went on, thinking hard. “So this is still part of you, same as everything else is.” She grabbed his hand again and gave it a squeeze. “I won’t say I’m not shocked, because I am. But I’ll try to understand. As long as you’re you and not … not a monster, I think it’s okay.” She paused. “But I don’t think I want to see you when you’re, you know, _it_.”

“Thanks,” he said, so quietly she could barely hear him, and wrapping both hands around hers. “That means the world to me.” He grinned suddenly. “And I have no intention of _any_ person seeing me when I’m transformed. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.”

She smiled, appreciating his effort to lighten the mood. “Not even Snape?”

Remus pretended to consider that. “Well, I suppose, I _could_ make an exception for someone like him,” he said mischievously. “No, seriously, not even Snape. James risked his life to save Severus from me a couple of years ago and I see no reason why that should have changed.”

Charlotte stared at him again. “Oh goodness. That was _true!!_ What Snape was saying about you in fifth year.”

Remus smiled wryly again. “Well, he did get a split second glimpse of me, so there was definitely some evidence for it. Dumbledore made him promise not to tell anyone, but we never seriously thought he would keep to that. Fortunately not many people believed him.”

She smiled too. “You know, I think I’m getting my head around this now. And I think I can deal with it. I don’t like seeing you hurt like this, but I guess if the alternative is you hurting other people … ” She trailed off and grinned again. “And I guess you’re the first person I’ve ever met who’s had a really good reason for saying, ‘It’s not you, it’s me.’”

He laughed. It came out slightly bitter, but it was a laugh, which in the present circumstances she thought was probably an achievement. “I suppose my excuse is better than most. I hated doing that to you, but there wasn’t really much option.”

“It’s okay,” she said, and realised to her surprise that she meant it. “It’s okay.”


	20. The trial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> July 1978

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked tentatively.

Laura set her jaw and nodded. “I want to see them get punished,” she said, a determined look on her face. “I feel like I owe it to Mary.”

Sirius sighed. He’d thought she’d be like this, and when she was like this she also kept talking about fighting. And he didn’t want her to fight. If she fought, she might get hurt, or worse, and that was something he’d do anything to prevent. She’d already as good as told Dumbledore that she wanted to join the Order, even though they’d been told that any decisions would not be accepted until they knew full well what they were getting into, and he was concerned that going to the trial would spur her on even more.

It was with some trepidation that they entered the courtroom on the lowest floor of the Ministry. Being a small trial of some minor Death Eaters, for the murders of people who weren’t well known, there wasn’t a huge amount of interest from the general public in this case, but there were a few faces in the crowd they knew. Sebastian Quirke, for example, was sitting stoically near the front, fingering something in his lap, flanked by some of his friends from Ravenclaw. He looked up as they entered and nodded in recognition, but didn’t do anything else and it was clear that he wanted to be alone, or good as alone, for this process.

Laura found them a couple of seats, not worrying about saving them for anyone else. James and Lily would be coming later, once they’d sorted something out for Lily’s parents, and while Moony, Wormtail and the girls should be arriving shortly they would be able to find their own spots. Even though Sirius knew that Laura would be stronger with more people around her, from the way she was gripping his hand he thought that she at least figured that his presence was enough.

He looked around the room, seeing even more familiar faces. Dumbledore was there, which surprised him, though perhaps the fact that it was one of his students had influenced him. Sirius grinned to himself as he thought of what else Dumbledore might do over the summer … aside from running the Order, that was. Somehow he couldn’t see him going to Brighton and doing some sea-bathing like everyone else wanted to. There were also a few more people he recognised, though he didn’t necessarily know their names. They were people he’d seen around when they’d spoken to Dumbledore about the Order, people who were involved in the fight against Voldemort but who he hadn’t really met yet. Aurors, perhaps, or other Ministry workers. He’d find out eventually.

Soon enough the defendants were led in by Dementors and strapped into the chairs in the middle of the room. Once the dungeon had recovered from the requisite chill the creatures had brought with them, a man with severely-cut dark hair and a toothbrush moustache stood up from his position near Dumbledore and spoke, his voice resonating around the chamber.

“Leon Wilfred Bletchley and Felicity Jemima Gamp, you have been brought here in front of the Council of Magical Law today to answer charges of the wilful murders of Beverley Anne Macdonald, Andrew Stuart Macdonald and Mary Louise Macdonald, on the night of Wednesday 29 March 1978. How do you plead?”

“Who’s he, do you know?” Sirius whispered in Laura’s ear.

“Barty Crouch, I think. Dad says he’s leading all the Death Eater trials.”

Sirius had heard the name but didn’t know much about the man, not beyond his enviable record of convictions of accused Death Eaters. He wasn’t sure he liked him much – there seemed a ruthlessness about him that, while it was probably useful in trials of Voldemort’s supporters, couldn’t be classified an endearing quality. Put another way, he reminded Sirius uncomfortably of his father.

The two defendants just sat there sullenly as the charges were read out, refusing to plead either guilty or not guilty. This meant that a full trial had to be held, potentially a long and protracted one, depending on how much evidence there was against them.

“This could take a while,” he whispered. “You comfortable?”

Laura smiled wryly. “As comfortable as I’ll ever be. I didn’t really come here for comfy lounge chairs and cushions.” She glared at the defendants in the middle of the room, a dark hatred in her eyes, and he was momentarily pleased that she’d never had cause to look at him like that. It was something he wasn’t used to in her and he wasn’t sure that he liked it – though he had to admit, it probably meant she’d be good in a fight. Much as he didn’t want her getting hurt, that scorn and determination would probably make her an asset for the Order.

Assuming they all joined up, of course. Though, the way things were going, he couldn’t see any of them backing out. Much as he’d like her to stay safe, there was no way Laura wasn’t going to be volunteering in this war.

They watched as a procession of witnesses came forward: Tom from the Leaky Cauldron, who testified that he’d heard Bletchley and Gamp discussing the raid on the Macdonald house two days before it actually happened; a woman named Dorcas Meadowes who claimed to have been shadowing Bletchley for months and could place him and Gamp in the vicinity of the crime on the night in question; an Auror named John Dawlish who was first on the scene once the call had gone out. Sirius moved uncomfortably on his seat – he’d been right, it was a long, drawn-out process and the hard wooden benches were taking their toll on his back.

“How’re you going?” James asked Laura at the pub that night. They’d seen about half the witnesses who were to be called and had congregated to discuss the day’s events.

“I think they did it,” she said. “Though there’s not much proof, really, is there? It’s all circumstantial.”

“Tell me about it,” Lily said wryly. “If this is all they’ve got, they might struggle for a conviction. It’s all speculation and hearsay.”

Sirius shook his head. “Somehow,” he said, “I don’t think that’s going to bother Barty Crouch all that much.”

Remus laughed. “Know something we don’t, Padfoot?”

He shook his head again. “Just a gut feeling. Put it this way – I wouldn’t want to be the one on trial if he was presiding over it.”

He still didn’t like Crouch, though aside from the similarities to Orion Black he had no real reason for that. There was just something that rubbed him the wrong way. The man seemed to have an almost pathological hatred of Death Eaters … and while Sirius could understand that, he wasn’t sure that someone with such a bias was the best person to be running criminal trials.

“I hope he convicts them,” Laura said with hatred in her voice. “If they did it, then they deserve to suffer.”

Sirius put an arm around her. “If they’re found guilty they’ll be sent to Azkaban. Yes, I think they’ll suffer.”

“Let’s just hope they’ve got a bit more evidence than they showed today, then,” James said, downing his drink. “Otherwise we’ll have that nagging thing in the back of our heads that says, maybe they were innocent.”

Laura shook her head again stubbornly. “I still think they did it,” she said firmly. “I know what you mean, James, but even with what we saw today, I’d still be happy to see them on the boat.”

Lily gave her hand a squeeze. “I know,” she said in an understanding tone. “You just need it to be over, don’t you.”

Sirius noticed tears in Laura’s eyes and pulled her close to him again. She succumbed to the embrace and then turned to Lily. “Yes,” she said. “I do.”

****

The next day was much the same as the first. Witnesses were called and interrogated, inconsistencies picked out and explained, Crouch losing his cool occasionally as the defendants refused to speak. Again, the evidence was mostly circumstantial – no one had actually seen them cast the Unforgivables that had killed Mary, Andrew and Mrs Macdonald – but there was, according to Crouch, apparently enough.

“You are facing life in Azkaban,” he boomed at them once the final witness – a man called Octavius Pepper, who was apparently the last person to see the Macdonalds alive, even after Laura had spoken to them via Floo – had given his testimony. “Do you have anything to add in your defence?”

The two defendants stared stonily at him, their mouths steadfastly closed. It seemed that they weren’t going to say anything, no matter what.

“We have heard the evidence against you, and are about to deliver our verdict.” He paused dramatically, loathing and disgust evident on his face. “I pronounce you guilty as charged. Take them away.”

Beside him, Laura breathed out heavily, her eyes fixed on the Dementors who were leading the two prisoners to their fate. “And so it ends,” she murmured once they’d left the room and the air felt more breathable again. “It seems weird, somehow.”

Around them, people were getting up from their seats and making their own way to the exit of the courtroom. Another trial over, they were making the most of the opportunity to stretch their legs before the next one began.

“Do you still think they did it?” Sirius asked.

Laura nodded. “Probably. Though I agree with Lily, the proof wasn’t very overwhelming. I was surprised he was as decisive as he was.”

“Barty Crouch has a strong record of putting Death Eaters away,” Sirius pointed out as they too stood up to make their way out, nodding again at Sebastian Quirke and the others in the room they knew. “It wouldn’t surprise me if not all of them were guilty.”

Laura nodded again. “I do think these two were,” she said. “But you might have a point.” She hurled an ugly look at the prison chairs in the middle of the room. “I’m glad they were found guilty, though,” she went on venomously. “Doing that to Mary, who never hurt anyone … it’s the least they deserve.”

“Wouldn’t be nice,” Sirius agreed. “A lifetime with the Dementors at Azkaban. But I think I agree with you. They deserve it.” He pulled her towards him and wrapped his arms around her. “And we’ve got a bit of closure.”

She held onto him tightly. “I think that’s what’s nicest about it,” she agreed, talking to his chest, tears in her eyes again, though he was sure this was more to do with relief than anything else. “It’s all over,” she went on thickly. “Mary can finally rest in peace.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I quite like this one, perhaps because of all the foreshadowing it enabled me to do. I had a few people wanting to see the trial when it was talked about in HTM and it did seem like something that should be covered - after all, it was a pretty big event. This is also the first one in this collection that takes place after they leave school so it allows for a bit of a different dynamic, which I also quite enjoyed writing. Hope you enjoyed it too. :)


	21. Good news

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> August 1978

Sirius arrived at his front door feeling exhausted. He’d just been part of a battle with a dozen Death Eaters and felt lucky to have got through it unscathed, and he was looking forward to a long bath and a good night’s sleep. After all, he wanted to be good for tomorrow.

However, as soon as he got inside the small flat he noticed the lamps were lit and there was someone else there. Not here, he thought, not now. I’m too tired. However it needed to be dealt with, so he pulled his wand out quickly and trained it on the figure he could see in the kitchen, obscured by the overhead cupboards.

“Don’t panic, it’s only me,” said the figure, and he relaxed considerably. He’d know that voice anywhere.

Laura.

If there was anyone he wanted to see, it was her. If there was anyone he didn’t mind being here when he was this worn out, it was her. But something wasn’t right – did he have his dates mixed up? She wasn’t due till tomorrow. Wand still out, he knew he’d better check it was really her.

“What’s your favourite flower?” he asked.

“Daffodil,” she replied, and he could hear the smile in her voice even if he couldn’t see her very well.

“Name one thing you smelled in amortentia,” he went on.

“Wet dog,” she said with a giggle, ducking down so she could see him through the gap between the bench and overhead cupboards. “In other words, you. Now it’s my turn – Animagus form?”

“Black dog,” he said, putting his wand away and dropping his rucksack on the floor.

“And the name of your benevolent uncle?”

“Alphard.”

“Okay,” she said. “I believe it’s you.”

That was it, the formalities were over and he allowed himself to relax. It really was her. “What are you doing here?” he asked, a smile crossing his face as he went to her and wrapped his tired arms around her. Weary as he was, he would stay up for her. “Is it Thursday already? 

She beamed at him and steered him to the sofa where he collapsed, lying across it with his head on one arm. “No, it’s still Wednesday. I thought I’d come early.” She pulled off his shoes and put them on the floor underneath the coffee table, then kissed him gently. “Coffee?” 

“That sounds great,” he mumbled, not moving from where he was. “Sorry, I’m a bit tired.”

“I can see that,” she said from the kitchen, where she was pouring a pot of coffee into two mugs. “How bad was it?”

“Pretty bad,” he admitted. “Nearly got hit a couple of times, and Lily got Stunned but she’s okay now.” Laura visibly started. “Don’t worry, Prongs is with her,” he went on with a small smile. “She’s fine. Might have a few bruises but that’s it.”

“Right.” She put his mug on the coffee table and sat down in the armchair, curled up with her feet beneath her. “I do get worried about you when you’re off like that,” she admitted. “If anything happened to you …” Her voice trailed off.

“No, they’ve got to catch me first,” he said, feeling more energetic already. He pulled himself up to sitting and reached for his mug. “Haven’t managed that yet, have they?”

She smiled wanly. “Thank goodness for that.” She looked him over, he knew looking for any evidence that he had in fact been hurt. Fortunately he hadn’t – he knew that she’d find out if he had, and he didn’t want her worrying unnecessarily. He worried enough for both of them. She might say that she was concerned about him, but if anything ever happened to her … he didn’t want to think about it. His eyes strayed to the ugly scar on her left arm, her own wound from a Death Eater wannabe. Severus Snape was lucky Sirius hadn’t killed him after he’d done that to her.

Laura spoke again. “You look like you could use a bath. Want me to run one for you?”

He laughed. The coffee was working and he was perking up considerably. “Do I smell that bad?”

“Well, now you come to mention it …” she smiled, her eyes sparkling. “No, of course not,” she went on after a brief pause. “It was more the dirt – you’re not exactly as clean as you could be right now.”

“Is that why you’re sitting all the way over there? So your clothes don’t get dirty?”

“Actually, if you recall, you were taking up the whole sofa when I sat down,” she pointed out.

“Well, I’m not now,” he said. “Plenty of room.”

She took the hint and moved to the sofa, her hands wrapped around her mug. He loved how it felt when she curled into him like that, her head resting on his shoulder, her legs against his and his arms around her. This was what it was all about, this was why he was fighting so much. To make the world safe for her, to make sure this could last forever.

“Tell you what,” he said eventually, planting a kiss on her forehead, “I’ll have that bath on one condition.”

She moved her head to look up at him. “And what’s that?”

He smiled. “That you get in there with me.”

She laughed. “Only once you’ve cleaned yourself off,” she said.

He rubbed his hand into her face. “Nup, now you need cleaning off as well,” he said. “You’re filthy.”

“You definitely aren’t hurt, are you?” she said with a grin. “All right. But don’t get too used to it, okay?” she went on. “I don’t want you thinking it’ll be happening all the time once I move in here.”

He started. He’d been asking her to move in for ages but she’d never said anything quite as definite as that. “Once you move in?”

She looked up at him and smiled that brilliant smile that made her face light up. “That’s why I came early,” she said, putting down her mug to reach into her jeans pocket and pull out a letter. “This arrived this morning.”

He quickly unfolded the parchment and looked it over, and a broad smile crossed his face. “But that’s fantastic! You got the job!”

“That’s right,” she grinned. “I start on Monday week. Which means that I’ll have some gold coming in, which means I can afford to move out of my parents’ place.” She paused significantly. “If the offer still stands, of course.”

“Ooh, I think I’ll have to think about that.” It was a joke, but he knew he couldn’t even keep that up for very long. He felt like shouting from the rooftops that she was finally moving in. Every morning he’d wake up next to her. It was what he wanted more than anything else in the world.

She gave him a punch. “No you won’t,” she scolded lightly. “So anyway, what I was thinking was, stay at home for the first couple of weeks while I get my bearings, and then once I’m settled in at work I’ll start packing up my stuff and moving it over here. What do you think?”

He pulled her up to be on his lap. “I think,” he said, unable to stop smiling, “that this is the best news I’ve had in months.” And he leaned in to kiss her, hungrily, passionately, feeling her up against him, relishing the fact that this would soon be the norm, that she would always be here. And he couldn’t help but notice that she soon moved her hands from his head, where they’d been running through his dirty and matted hair, and had not only unbuttoned his shirt entirely but moved to his jeans.

“I thought I was filthy and needed a bath?” he teased.

“You are and you do,” she responded, not stopping what she was doing. “But you needed to strip off anyway, so why not make the most of it?” She paused, smiling at him mischievously. “Unless of course you’re too tired …”

“Not for this, I’m not.” He smiled again. “I knew there was a reason I love you.”

She smiled and pulled her T-shirt off over her head in one fluid movement, revealing a lacy bra and what he still regarded as the best body he’d ever seen. “I still haven’t worked out why I love you, though,” she teased back. “I’m sure there must be a reason, but Merlin only knows what it is.”

He laughed and picked her up, putting her over his shoulder as he carried her into the bedroom that in a few weeks would be hers as well. “Enough of that,” he grinned as he dropped her onto the bed. “You know perfectly well why you love me, and if you’ve forgotten then I’ll just have to show you again.”

“Oh, yes please,” she said, her eyes alight. And she grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him down towards her, so that he was forced onto the bed as well. He lay over her, propping himself up on his hands so he wouldn’t hurt her.

“Lesson one,” he began, still smiling at her, and he leaned in and kissed her again, his tongue reaching as far into her mouth as it could. She put her arms around him and he lowered himself on to her, feeling her legs wrapping around his hips as he did it.

It took over an hour to go through all the lessons he could think of, but by the time they were finished he thought he had convinced her. “So,” he said, his head resting between her breasts, “have you worked it out yet?”

She ran her fingers through his hair, absently picking through some of the tangles. “Yes, I think so,” she admitted. “I love you because you make me feel like that.”

He smiled to himself. “Good. Because if not, you’d be one hard woman to please.” He thought he’d been pretty thorough.

“Come here,” she said suddenly, and he inched up the bed so that his head was level with hers. “Good,” she went on, “now I can see you.” She smiled and leaned in to kiss him. “And I love you because of everything you are and everything you make me.”

He smiled again. “That’s pretty comprehensive.”

“I like to make sure I include everything,” she said idly. “Now,” she went on, suddenly more business-like, “that bath isn’t taking itself. How about you start running it and I’ll try to clean off these sheets a bit.”

He looked around. Dirt and mud was everywhere, ground into the sheets with their sweat as they’d rolled around. It would take more than _Tergeo_ to clean this up.

“Right,” he agreed. “Good luck!”

She smiled again. “Bathroom, you. I’ll be in there in a minute.”

He went into the bathroom obediently, smiling to himself as he turned the taps to fill the bath. In another month or so this would be normal, this would be the rule rather than the exception, she would have finally moved in. There wasn’t much more he could ask for. Life would be perfect.


	22. James: The funeral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> September 1978

 

The morning of the funeral dawned grey and wet, which if I thought about it was probably appropriate to how Padfoot was feeling. We had found out about Laura a week and a half ago now, but it had taken her days to actually die once the treatment was withdrawn.

Padfoot had spent most of that time as a dog, coming back into human form only to go to St Mungo’s to sit with her as her body wasted away, or to drink himself into a stupor so he could get to sleep. And even then he had nightmares – he never mentioned them but I could hear him in the next room, screaming her name or sobbing away to himself in the middle of the night. And more than once we’d needed to fix the holes he’d punched in the walls: again, we never mentioned this and I had the impression he preferred it that way, though the dried blood on his knuckles served as a constant reminder of what he’d done.

In fact, he’d said and done very little at all since we’d found out, at least in the presence of others. Lily and I had brought him back to Mum’s so he could have someone looking after him, but he’d not eaten much and had refused our company most of the time. I did know however that he would have had trouble going home, as Laura had been in the process of moving in and the flat was full of her things. And he definitely couldn’t face that yet.

I could only imagine how he felt. If it had been Lily in that hospital bed, I don’t know what I would have done or how I would have reacted. Probably, if I was honest, in much the same way. So I tried to offer sympathy but everything I said just sounded hollow and insincere, and from his reaction he thought that too.

So Lily and I left him alone. In light of what had happened Dumbledore had let us off from the Order for a while, and we did what we could to make Padfoot’s life easier. We went to his flat and packed all of Laura’s belongings into a shoebox with an Undetectable Extension Charm on it, so he could put it in the back of the wardrobe for the time being but take it out again when he was ready. We made excuses to Mum about why he spent so much time in the forest beyond the back fence, and pretended the big black dog that we would occasionally see in the far corners of the estate was just a stray.  

And we made sure that we didn’t do anything vaguely romantic or even affectionate when he was within eye or earshot. Certainly we didn’t mention our own news, that we’d decided to get married as soon as we could, that this had galvanised us into action. At the moment, I thought, that might break him. So we barely touched each other when he was around and didn’t say anything that would make him think of us as a couple, rather than just his friends. Nothing that would remind him of what he’d lost.

Anyway, the day of the funeral was grey and it just refused to stop raining. We pulled him out of bed and I dragged him into the shower and washed and shaved him so he would at least look vaguely human, even if he didn’t feel it. He wouldn’t eat, but by then I knew not to force the matter, realising that the holes in his wall served as evidence enough of his pain and anger and frustration without me doing anything to ignite it. And I found some clean clothes for him to wear – black, of course, he’d worn nothing else since he’d found out – and by the time we were due to leave, he could just about stand by himself and looked almost presentable.

He needed to be able to stand because he was one of the pallbearers. As was I, which had been a bit of a surprise to me when I’d found out but apparently it was in recognition of the choices Laura had made in the past year. Choices to spend her time with us rather than with her family. But Sirius had pride of place right up the front, next to Mr Cauldwell, so he needed to be able to carry this off.

Looking at him, I wasn’t so sure he could. And I was pretty sure he’d have awful trouble speaking at the service, though he was supposed to be doing just that. I just squeezed his shoulder and said that if he couldn’t do it, if he wasn’t up to it, I would stand in for him and make the speech I thought he wanted to make.

Again, he didn’t say anything, but he did look a little relieved so I took that as his consent.

We each grabbed an arm and Apparated him to Bristol, where we met Laura’s family out the front of the church, standing as a group in the pouring rain. It was strange, having a service like this in a Muggle church, but then again her mum was a Muggle so I guessed it was so that side of the family could attend.  Everyone looked a little strained and Beatrice in particular was very red and blotchy, and I supposed she felt like this whole thing was her fault. Which is why I was surprised when Mr Cauldwell spoke to Sirius.

“Sirius,” he began, “I’d just like to apologise for what I said at the hospital last week.”

Padfoot raised his head and looked at him, the rain obscuring how bright his eyes were. The action was more than he’d done for just about anyone else for more than a week, and he nodded. “It’s okay,” he muttered, so quietly I wasn’t sure Mr Cauldwell would have been able to hear him. “It was all true anyway.”

I had no idea what this was about – after all, Padfoot had barely said a word to us about anything – but it surprised Mr Cauldwell. “It wasn’t,” he said. “I should never have blamed you like that.”

Lily and I looked at each other in surprise. He’d blamed Padfoot for this? But he’d had nothing to do with it. He would have blacked out the sun if he’d thought it would save Laura from something like this, he certainly shouldn’t be accepting responsibility for it.

Sirius just shook his head and gazed at the man he’d thought would one day be his father-in-law. “You were right. I promised to protect her and I didn’t do it.” He took a deep breath and sighed resignedly. “I’m so sorry.”

Typical Padfoot. Only he could twist reality like this and take the blame. And it probably didn’t help when Mrs Cauldwell suddenly burst into tears and hurled herself at him, giving him the biggest hug I’d ever seen.

“Oh Sirius,” she sobbed. “It wasn’t your fault. She loved you so much.”

I wasn’t sure if that was the right thing to say, seeing as it would just remind him of everything about Laura he was trying to forget, but he appeared almost calm and a bit of a wistful look came across his face as Mrs Cauldwell cried into his chest. Maybe it was a bit like holding Laura, having her clinging to him like that, and it was all he had to remind him of what that had felt like.

The doors of the church opened and we all filed in out of the rain, Lily and I staying close to Padfoot in case he needed our support, whether physically or emotionally. Mum came, too, sitting a few pews back, but ready to come forward in a moment if he should need her. Shortly afterwards Moony arrived, looking a little tired and dragging Charlotte in behind him. They’d agreed on a casual relationship since school, which was the most he was prepared to commit to though I suspected she was dying to take it further, even though she realised that her family would probably never accept him.

“Sorry I’m late,” he muttered as he slid into the pew behind us. “Got caught up with Dumbledore’s mission.” Which we knew was with the werewolves even though the full moon was weeks off, but he couldn’t exactly say that in public. I looked around and saw Dumbledore himself on a pew closer to the back of the church, come to pay his respects to someone who would have been a rather productive Order member had she lived.

Not long afterwards Wormtail arrived, sliding in next to Charlotte and looking a little unsure how he should be behaving. I saw his eyes travel across the red eyes and tearstained faces of Lily and Charlotte, to the blank face of Padfoot, to Moony and I who were just trying to make sense of the whole thing. He was joined soon enough by Martha, who with Lily and Charlotte was the last living member of Laura’s dorm at school.

Charlotte was looking around absently and suddenly drew in her breath sharply. “What’s he doing here?”

We all spun around, with the exception of Padfoot whose gaze was fixed on the coffin at the front of the church. And Charlotte was right to be surprised – wandering in and sitting down, as comfortable as you like, was Bertram bloody Aubrey.

Aubrey. The bloke who cheated on her when they were going out at school. The one who didn’t think she was worth being faithful to. What right did he have to come here today?

I looked quickly at Padfoot but he hadn’t noticed, and I suspected he wouldn’t until after the service was over. He looked like nothing could take his attention away from the oak coffin in front of him, not even Voldemort himself. And again, I could understand. If that casket had held Lily, if she’d been taken from me suddenly like that without even a chance to say goodbye or tell her how much I loved her, I’d be like that too.

“He’s got a nerve,” I muttered, glaring at Aubrey and facing away from Sirius so he wouldn’t hear. “I’ll have a word to him after to make sure he doesn’t hang around. No one needs him here.”

The church was filling up with various people, some probably Laura’s relatives and some to offer support to her parents or sister. Two people I recognised as Beatrice’s friends. And a few people from school had arrived as well – Sebastian Quirke, who we’d not seen since we’d graduated, was there with Bernie Carmichael and Hector Bole, and also Thalia Strout and Veronica Smethley and a few other people I couldn’t think of the names of. As well as Dumbledore and McGonagall, down from the school for the occasion.

The service started.  A little man who very obviously didn’t know Laura stood up and spoke some empty words about her life, platitudes that could be applied to almost anyone. It didn’t mean much and it certainly didn’t help those of us who did know her well to cope with the fact that she wasn’t going to be around any more.

Finally he got off the pulpit and Mr Cauldwell got up. This was much more heartfelt, much more about the Laura we knew. He struggled to keep calm during his eulogy but did as well as could be expected of a man who had just lost his youngest child at the grand old age of eighteen. He talked about the little girl he’d taught to strip down broomsticks and put new charms on them, the girl who dragged him to Catapults games whenever possible, the girl who climbed trees looking for Bowtruckles and had hex battles with her sister. And he talked about the girl who’d got three Os and two Es for her NEWTs and was just starting out on her career and who’d found someone who loved her as much as her family did and maybe even more. How she had never been so happy. How her life was only just starting, and it had looked so promising, until one day when she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

And then it was Sirius’ turn. He stood up with more energy than I’d expected and glanced at me briefly when he got to the pulpit, and I knew that he intended to make the speech himself. No matter what it took out of him.

“I heard it said once,” he began, and his voice was hoarse and strained as though it hadn’t been used for a while, “that it is always the innocent who are the first to be taken. And I’ve also heard that only the good die young.” He paused. “I think that those are both true here.” He paused again and I could tell this was an effort. “Laura was a shining light of everything that is good and right and honourable. She rarely had a harsh word for anyone and she always looked for the good in people. She was like sunshine. You couldn’t know her without loving her.” He paused again and swallowed hard, and in my head I filled in what was left unsaid, what he was thinking – _and no one loved her as much as I did_. Sirius continued. “And she could never stand by and let other people suffer, she always had to do something about it. And while that was part of who she was, and while it’s admirable, if I could take that quality away from her I would do it in a heartbeat, I would have made her more selfish, because that quality is why we’re all here today.”

His eyes were bright again and I was sure he couldn’t see any of us at all, he couldn’t see anything but Laura. “If I could swap places with her, I’d do it in a second. If I could turn back time to save her, I wouldn’t think twice. If I had to choose between Laura and oxygen, I’d take Laura.” Another swallow. “But I can’t swap places with her no matter how hard I wish for it, and I can’t turn back time. So we have to make sure that she didn’t die in vain. She died fighting the Death Eaters, so we have to finish the job. It’s what she wanted. We have to do it for Laura.”

He stopped talking and came back to his seat, still not seeing anything in front of him. I realised that what we had just heard was as much as we were ever going to hear on the subject, that this was the equivalent of Sirius spilling his guts for the world to hear. None of us had ever heard him or Laura use the word ‘love’ when talking about each other before except in response to a direct question about it, and we’d certainly never heard them actually saying the words “I love you” to each other, but we all knew that it had been said. You just had to look at them when they were together to know that. But they were quiet about it in public, it was like it was their little secret. So this eulogy was the closest we would probably ever hear, if I knew Padfoot.

After it was all over we all filed past the coffin before heading out to the church yard for the burial, those of us designated as pallbearers leading the way with the coffin on our shoulders. The rain hadn’t let up and several people, mostly Muggles but also some witches and wizards, huddled underneath umbrellas around the open grave. Some of the magical folk cast Impervius Charms on themselves to stay dry, but Sirius I noticed did neither, probably happy to get wet as it was something physical he could feel, that might possibly distract him from what he was going through inside.

Once the oak coffin was safely in its muddy hole I pushed through the crowds to find Aubrey, to try to get him to take off before Padfoot saw him.

“What are you doing here?” I hissed as I reached him.

“Paying my respects,” he said defensively. “I’ve got just as much right to be here as anyone else does.”

“Like hell you do. You hurt her badly. This is for people who cared for her and respected her and were there for her when she needed it.

He laughed derisively. “And you did that, did you, Potter? She barely knew you.”

“Really.” I glared at him. “And Sirius’ eulogy was something a stranger would have said, was it?”

He looked a little bewildered. “I wondered about that,” he said. “I was going to ask her mum what that was about. Why he spoke, of all people.”

“Uh, maybe, do you think, because he was in love with her?”

Aubrey froze. “What do you mean?”

It was my turn to laugh. “It’s been a long time since you saw Laura, hasn’t it, Aubrey? Well, she and Padfoot got together last year. They loved each other more than life itself, and they were planning to get married.” Okay, that might have been a bit of an exaggeration, but only a bit. It was understood if not formally announced. But it got the message across and he went a little pale. “So it might seem to some people that you’re overstaying your welcome a bit, if you know what I mean,” I went on. “You had her and you threw her away. You thought she wasn’t even worth your fidelity. So I ask again, what are you doing here? Because you can’t pay your respects now if you didn’t respect her in the first place.”

He blanched and moved well towards the back of the crowd, hiding behind Dumbledore’s tall form so Sirius couldn’t see him. “I made a mistake,” he whispered. “I did respect her. I just didn’t realise how good I had it. I can see that now.”

I smiled sourly. “Yeah, fine, you’ve come to your senses. Took you long enough, I might add. But Padfoot did realise how good he had it. He worshipped the ground she walked on. And now she’s gone forever, and he doesn’t need someone like you hanging around to remind him of how upset you made her. He deserves to remember her happy, don’t you think?”

He went quiet. “Did he make her happy?” he asked eventually.

“Very,” I said. “The happiest I ever knew her. The happiest her parents ever knew her, for that matter.”

“Oh.” He shrank into himself a bit. “You might be right. I think I’ll take off.”

I nodded. “Smart move, Aubrey. Probably the smartest thing you ever did.”

I made my way back through the crowd to where Lily was minding Padfoot. I saw her with him, her hand on his arm and Moony and Wormtail almost standing guard, and I wondered if he’d tried to jump into the hole himself rather than just throwing the rosemary and daffodils that were available. He’d put the shutters up again and looked cold and closed off, but I knew that was just his self-protection instinct kicking in, trying to protect him from getting hurt even more.

Suddenly Martha re-joined the group, surprising me as I hadn’t noticed she wasn’t there. “Got rid of her,” she said quietly, making sure Padfoot didn’t hear her.

Everyone else started nodding, pleased looks on their faces, but I’d been booting out Aubrey so I didn’t know what they were talking about. “Got rid of who?” I asked.

“Elvira Vablatsky,” she hissed, grabbing my arm and pulling me aside a bit. “Came to try to help Sirius get through this, can you believe it?”

“You’re joking.” I’d known Vablatsky was persistent but I couldn’t quite believe even she would go that far.

“Yeah, we thought so too,” she said. “But no, she saw this as an opportunity not to be missed. After all, he is single again.” She rolled her eyes and her voice was heavy with contempt.

“Does he know?”

She just looked at me as though disgusted I’d even need to ask. “Of course not. And he’s not going to find out. He’s got enough on his plate right now without dealing with that sort of rubbish.”

I nodded. “Right. Sorry I asked. Thanks for dealing with it.”

She nodded. “No problem. Least I could do.”

We went back to the graveside and the little man who’d spoken empty platitudes about Laura in the church started talking again, saying things that probably made sense if you’re familiar with Muggle funerals but not to me. He was moving his arm back and forth in front of him and we just stood there, silent and wet as the last chapter of Laura’s story came to a close. Sirius didn’t move a muscle as the dirt started to be shovelled onto the coffin, just watched blankly as the girl he loved was put to eternal rest, but the shutters were down again and he looked broken. I gritted my teeth – it was the war that had done this to my best friend, and I’d be damned if I wasn’t going to try to make it right somehow.

Finally it was over and Padfoot surprised me by moving off of his own accord, just wandering through the crowds as though randomly, so we followed him to make sure he was okay. And he stopped at Dumbledore, who had the most sympathetic look on his face that I’d ever seen.

There were no words of greeting or even recognition before Sirius spoke. “Send me away,” I heard him say.

Dumbledore looked surprised but composed himself quickly. “Where would you like to go?”

Padfoot’s voice was a monotone. “I don’t care. Anywhere but here. There’s no sunshine anymore.” He paused, a flicker of life almost visible behind his eyes. “I need to work, I need to be busy, I need to get away from here. So send me away. I don’t care where or why, but do it now.”

The older man just nodded, an understanding look on his face. “Certainly. Come and see me this afternoon and I’ll have a project for you.” He paused, looking through his wet glasses at Sirius. “Though there are not many to choose from right at the moment. It may end up being more dangerous than you have been doing up till now.”

Sirius nodded, his face firming with what was probably resolve. “Even better.”

He turned away from Dumbledore and I put a hand on his shoulder. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” I asked, regretting the question instantly as he turned to face me angrily.

“So, if that was Lily in there,” he snarled, jerking his head towards the grave, “are you saying that you wouldn’t do anything you could not to think about it?”

I stopped dead. He was right, of course, and I’d just been incredibly insensitive. “Sorry, mate,” I said. “I wasn’t thinking.”

His anger dissipated and he just looked resigned. “Wish I could say the same,” he muttered. He looked around distractedly, his eyes pausing as they passed over Laura’s parents. “I can’t stay here,” he went on. “I’m off to the pub. You can meet me there later if you want.”

I started saying something again about what might or might not be a good idea, but stopped immediately. This was killing him, I could see it in his eyes. “Sure,” I muttered. “Whatever you need to do.”

He turned to me again, his face gaunt and hollow. “What I need is impossible,” he muttered. “What I need, Prongs, is to forget.”

I watched him turn on the spot and disappear, knowing that he was asking a lot. Yes, he’d get over it eventually, and he’d move on with his own life, but of one thing I was sure. He would never truly forget.

 


	23. Dark days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> September 1978

“Has anyone seen Padfoot lately?” James asked, half a sausage still in his mouth. They were having breakfast at the Potters’ house – Remus, James and Lily – and James had obviously just had an idea.

“The funeral was only three days ago,” Remus pointed out. “I thought we agreed to give him some space.”

James seemed to consider that. “Yeah, we did, didn’t we?” he agreed, fortunately having swallowed his sausage. “But I think we should go check on him. He might have been drinking non-stop since then and I don’t want him to kill himself.”

“He has been working, remember,” Lily said. “Put his hand up for a couple of errands for Dumbledore, didn’t he?”

James nodded slowly. “Yeah, but he’s probably back now. What do you say we pay him a surprise visit?”

“Just to make sure he’s okay?” Lily prodded. Remus could tell that she didn’t want to invade Sirius’ privacy too much, but also wanted to ensure he was getting through this difficult time intact.

“Yep, just that,” James agreed. “We’ll grab Wormtail on the way. What do you reckon?”

“I’m worried about him,” Lily admitted. “I’m in.”

Remus nodded. “Yes, me too. I remember what he was like when they broke up at the start of the year. He could be worse now.”

James nodded too, looking serious. “Good point, Moony. Right, I’ll get onto Wormtail and let him know to expect us.”

An hour later, the four of them were outside Sirius’ flat in London. They’d all been given wand access (except Lily, of course) so any of them could get in; however, they looked at James to lead them, as they always did. James, for his part, looked at them all in turn. “Ready?” They nodded, and he tapped his wand a couple of times on the door and opened it.

The room was dark and they could just see a black dog lying by the far wall. It looked like it had lost a lot of weight and its eyes were bloodshot. On the floor next to it were at least a dozen photographs of Laura and a half-empty bottle of Firewhisky. Within seconds it was in human form and whipped out a wand to cast a feeble Shield Charm.

“You’ll have to do better than that, mate,” James said lightly, clearly trying to cheer his friend up just a little. “If we were Death Eaters you’d be dead already.”

Sirius shrugged, his face wet and eyes bright. “So what?” he asked bitterly. “Got nothing to live for now anyway.” He wiped his face hurriedly and put the top back on the whisky bottle.

“Don’t say that,” Remus said. “You’ve got plenty to live for. A world without Voldemort, for one thing.”

“Yeah, great,” Sirius said, still bitterly. “Brilliant for you lot.”

“Look,” Remus said, going over to him and reaching for a photograph, “it’s not –”

“DON’T,” Sirius said sharply, snatching up the photos around him as his friend approached, and flicking through them until what must have been his favourite was on top. “Don’t touch them,” he went on, his voice threatening. Then he fell back against the wall and stared at them, obviously making a point of not looking at his visitors. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet and resigned. “They’re all I’ve got.”

Lily and Peter were busying themselves with cleaning up, though they drew a blank in the kitchen. There were no dishes to do or put away, because there was no food to be eaten.

“Mate, when was the last time you ate?” James asked, sitting down next to Sirius, though not too close in case it set him off again.

Sirius shrugged. “Not sure. Day before yesterday? The funeral?”

Peter looked scandalised. “Not even when you’ve been working?” They had thought that those odd jobs he’d been doing for Dumbledore might have had some degree of success in taking his mind off things.

He just shrugged again. “Had other things to do then. I didn’t think of it.”

“Well, we’re taking you out for a feed,” James said firmly. “You’ll kill yourself otherwise. Man cannot live on drink alone.”

“I reckon I can give it a good shot,” Sirius muttered under his breath.

“Look, I know this is hard,” Remus said. “But you have to at least try to keep going. When Mum died …”

“Yeah, when your mum died,” Sirius said scornfully. “Your _mum_. It’s completely different.”

“Not for Dad it wasn’t,” Remus said quietly.

“Still, they’d had years,” Sirius said, his voice bitter. “And he still has you. It’s not the same.”

“Look, I lost someone too,” Remus said defensively. “Death is death, Padfoot. We all have to deal with it at some point.”

“It’s not the same,” Sirius repeated. “Wow, you lost a parent.” He paused, generous enough not to say the words that everyone knew he was thinking. _Big deal._ When he spoke again, his voice was quiet, mournful, and it was clear that he was struggling to get the words out. “I lost everything.”

****

A couple of days later they went to see him again, this time with high hopes of pulling him out of his despair. “Guess what?” James said as he easily deflected the Shield Charm that was sent his way as they entered. “We’ve got a job to do.”

Sirius, looking identical to the last time they’d done this, actually seemed to perk up at this news and transformed into human form. “Work?”

"Yep,” James said. “So you might be able to get some of that frustration out on a Death Eater or two. Sound good?”

Sirius starting to pull himself up to standing, all the while putting the photos in his hand in his preferred order. “I’d like that,” he said.

“First things first though,” Remus said sternly. “You’re not going out fighting on an empty stomach. Have you bothered getting any food yet?”

“There’s some bread, I think,” Sirius said vaguely. “You know, the stuff Lily got the other day.”

James looked shrewdly at him. “You haven’t touched it, have you?”

Sirius shrugged. “Didn’t feel like it. Needed too much effort.”

“You have to start looking after yourself,” James said. “Look, the Order could really use someone like you at the moment, but you have to be in decent shape to do it. And don’t you want to get out there and find out who did this to her? You could get some revenge.”

Sirius’ dead-looking eyes started to light up. “Make them suffer like I’ve suffered,” he muttered. “Yeah, sounds good.” He pulled his robes further up his shoulders and started to make his way to the kitchen. “Okay, Prongs, you win. I’m in.”

****

"Are you sure you should be signing up for so much?” James asked hesitantly. They were leaving an Order meeting a week or so later and Sirius had put his hand up for what seemed like half the missions on offer, most of which were very dangerous.

Sirius shrugged. “What else am I going to do? If I’m out there, I might get a clue on who did it, and I’d hate to be them when I get that info.”

Remus looked at him. It was still about revenge and, he suspected, about keeping busy. James, however, didn’t seem to get that.

“Mate, you’re going to find yourself locked out of your place if you’re not careful. If you go too long without going back in it might seal the doors against you.”

Sirius shrugged again. “I managed to get in after a full term away during school,” he pointed out. “Besides, I don’t really want to go back there too much. I like working.”

Remus nodded; Peter just looked confused. “Why don’t you want to go back? You live there, don’t you?”

“What’s there for me now?” Sirius asked simply, his eyes in front of him. “Couple of empty rooms and too many memories. Not much incentive in that, really. Nope, I’d rather be out on the job, doing some good. Seems the least I can do now.”

Remus understood. At home there were the photos of Laura and the bottles of Firewhisky. It was much healthier for Sirius to be out working for the Order, even if he was volunteering for the suicide missions. Then again, if anyone could pull those off, it’d be him.

He was forced to reconsider this a few days later, though, when they went to collect Sirius from St Mungo’s.

“What on earth happened to you?” James asked. Even though he’d been discharged Sirius looked a mess. Covered in cuts and bruises, he was clearly recovering from some recently-fixed bones and damage from more than one curse.

“Walked into an ambush,” he said. “They’d heard we were coming. I was lucky to get out with this.”

“Anyone else hurt?”

Sirius looked at James scornfully. “Mate, we were all hurt. It was an ambush. No one died, though, which is a good thing. Well, none of us, that is. I think Moody got one of them before he got hit.” He looked at his bruised arm. “Could have been much worse.”

“Well, we’re taking you home,” James said firmly. “You need rest, and the Healer told us that you have to stay put for a couple of days while those bruises heal.”

“Great,” Sirius muttered. “Home.”

“How about our place, then?” James offered. “You can have the spare room. Not your old one, Moony’s got that, but the other one. The one …”

“The one Laura stayed in,” Sirius finished for him. “I think that’d be just as bad.” He pulled himself to standing with obvious effort. “But, then, it’d probably do me good to have your mum fussing over me for a bit, wouldn’t it?” He was clearly making an effort to act normally, to not dwell too much on his loss, and Remus was keen to make the most of this.

“Do you the world of good,” he said. “And you can always go for a run out the back when you need to blow off some steam.” There was a woodland over the back fence that they used for full moons, and he was sure that letting out some pent-up energy as Padfoot would do more for Sirius than almost anything else would.

Sirius’ eyes lit up for a moment, confirming Remus’ thoughts. “Yeah, I could do that. Okay, you’ve convinced me. The Potter house it is.”

****

It appeared Mrs Potter was thrilled to have the opportunity to baby Sirius for a while. “He never lets me do this normally,” she confided to Remus as she bustled around the kitchen assembling a plateful of comfort food for him. “But I think it’s helping.”

Remus thought he agreed, but it could be hard to tell with Sirius. Mrs Potter was encouraging him to talk about Laura and what she’d meant, all the time showering him with food, (non-alcoholic) drink and, when he would let her, the occasional motherly hug. Her theory was that once he’d got it all out of his system he’d be able to cope better. Remus wasn’t sure about that, but early indications were at least vaguely encouraging.

“It’s just so hard,” he heard Sirius say one day through the open door of the drawing room. Remus paused, unsure if him walking past the door would interrupt the conversation too much. “Knowing that no matter what, I’m never going to see her again. It shouldn’t have happened this way.”

“It is hard,” Mrs Potter said comfortingly. “But you’re strong. You’ll manage.”

“It’s just … it’s like I had my whole life planned out. And she was in it, you know? So now, with her gone, I’ve lost all of that. My whole life, gone.” He paused, and Remus decided that backtracking to where he’d come from was by far the more desired option. The kitchen could wait. He just heard Sirius say something about not having anything to look forward to any more as he headed back upstairs.

“How’s he getting along?” James asked as they passed on the stairs.

“Having a heart to heart with your mum at the moment,” Remus said. “Steer clear of the drawing room, okay?”

James nodded. “Right. Well, I hope it’s working.”

Remus shrugged. “If we can just get him to stay off the Firewhisky for a while I’ll count it as a victory. But yeah, I think that if anything might work, it’d be this.”

James paused. “The drawing room, you say? Right, I’ll stay out of the kitchen for now too so I don’t disturb them. What do you say to a spot of Quidditch out the back?”

Remus grinned. “Excellent idea, mate. I’ll go and get my broom.”

Half an hour later, Sirius came out to join them. James flew to the ground to greet him.

“How’re you doing?”

Sirius looked at his healed arms. “All fixed, I’d say.”

Remus knew that wasn’t what James had meant, but he also thought Sirius probably knew that too and was choosing not to answer the unspoken question. That was like Sirius, he thought, keeping it all in for as long as he could.

“Up for a game, then?”

Remus landed next to him. “Uh, Prongs, there are only three of us. How exactly were you planning on getting a game going?”

“Call Wormtail, of course,” James said smugly. “Don’t you think it’s time the four of us had a bit of fun again? It’s been long enough.”

Remus looked anxiously at Sirius, wondering how he’d take this suggestion. To his relief, he seemed in favour. “Yes … fun,” he said slowly. “It sounds good. How do I have that again?”

James laughed and handed over a spare broom. “Well, mate, you get on the broom and forget that life on the ground even exists. Then we try to kill you with a Bludger. It’s brilliant.”

Sirius grinned, a sight none of them had seen for a while. Maybe, Remus reflected, Mrs Potter’s form of counselling was actually working. “Sounds good,” he said again. “When can Wormtail get here?”


	24. Sirius: Birthdays aren’t always what they’re cracked up to be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> November 1978

I wake up and automatically reach across the bed for Laura, but of course she isn’t there. I should be used to that by now, it’s been six weeks since her funeral, but it’s still the first thing I do when I wake up in the morning. Particularly when I’m here, at home – if I’m off on assignment it’s less of an automatic thing.

The thing is, I’d been looking forward to this birthday, my nineteenth. Originally, that is, up until a couple of months ago. This was going to be the first birthday I spent with her, it was going to be the best one I ever had, just because she was there. She was supposed to be there when I woke up this morning, just as she was supposed to be there when I wake up on my ninetieth. I know that when the owls start arriving I’ll be looking for her handwriting, as well – just as I look for her when I get home, when I go to Diagon Alley, when I’m in the Ministry, when I meet with Dumbledore. Anywhere she might be if she was still alive.

Eventually I get up, cursing fate for having me at home this morning of all mornings. Why couldn’t I have been working today, why couldn’t I have been somewhere so far away I may not have even thought of her? Automatically I lean over and smell the pillow next to me, just in case some of her residual scent is still there – I haven’t washed it since she was last there, not wanting to wash away any of the little I have left of her. Unfortunately it’s the same as always: even with a dog’s nose, there is none of her left there, just as there is none of her left anywhere except in photos, like the one that’s still next to the bed. Or in the shoebox at the back of the wardrobe, the one Prongs and Lily put all her things in after she died.

I’m not sure I’m ready to pull that out and look at it yet.

Tell you what, Tom at the Leaky Cauldron is probably sick to death of me by now, drowning my sorrows in a bottle of Firewhisky while I sit at the bar staring at her photo. Of course he’s been landlord there for so long he’s heard it all before, and he knows all the right things to say, even if I know he doesn’t mean them. It’s just that I still can’t quite believe she’s gone, I keep half expecting her to walk in with that smile she kept just for me, and the drunker I get the more likely that feels, so you can understand why I would succumb to that.

As I’d predicted, I do look for her handwriting. The owls are coming with regular monotony with parcels to recognise the day, and I flick through them, throwing aside parcels from Prongs, Lily, Moony, Wormtail and even Reg as I search. And I bin one from Vablatsky, of all people – how she has the nerve is beyond me. Anyway, there’s nothing from Laura, of course. I can feel her watching me from the picture frame on the bookcase, imagining the reproachful look on her face. Get over this already, Padfoot, you’ve been wallowing in self-pity for the best part of two months now, you should be trying to snap out of it. She’s. Not. Coming. Back.

Ever.

I should have known it was too good to last. I was never going to be able to keep someone like her. She was way too good for me anyway, so maybe it’s a blessing she never worked that out. I think if she’d chosen to leave, it would have been even worse – if that’s possible.

To take my mind off things like this, I make myself some toast and coffee, not really being up to anything more, but knowing I should eat. Who knows, Dumbledore might have a job for me today, might be able to send me away, far away from all this so there’s nothing to remind me. It’s something that sucks about living alone, there’s no one to take your mind off things. Of course, she was supposed to be here so I wouldn’t have been living alone, but that didn’t exactly work out the way I wanted it to, did it?

It’s my own fault, of course, for opening up and letting her in like that. If I’d been a good Black, if I’d done as I’d been taught, then she’d never have got that close to me and I wouldn’t be feeling like this now. But then again, if I’d done that then I wouldn’t have had that time with her that I did have, and I’d never have been as happy as I was. Dumbledore keeps saying things about how powerful love is, and while I have to agree with that right now I’d rather I’d never had it, because then I wouldn’t be in as much pain as I am. I wish I was out working for the Order all the time – 24 hours a day, seven days a week – because then I wouldn’t have to come home and wake up looking for her like I keep doing. There’s not much point in coming home when there’s nothing to come home to.

Not long after I’ve had breakfast and forced myself into the shower I notice the note from Prongs has another page to it so I check it out. He’s inviting me over for lunch, probably to make sure I’m eating, but I appreciate the gesture. He’s a good friend, I think, he’s doing his best to look after me, though seeing that engagement ring on Lily’s finger isn’t always the easiest for me. But they’re the closest thing I have to family these days and they look out for me. I find a quill on the floor and scribble a note on the back of the original – _Thanks, Prongs, will be there_.

I look at Laura’s picture on the bookcase. “See, Laura, I am going out. I’m not staying in here all day getting drunk and feeling sorry for myself, I’m doing what you’d say I should be doing.”

I do that a lot, talk to her photo. Because I can’t talk to her, of course, and it’s as close as I can get. And having her there keeps me on the straight and narrow a bit, so to speak – I try not to do anything she wouldn’t approve of. I feel like she’s watching over me and judging what I do, so I try to think ahead about what the consequences of my actions might be, just as she would. And I tell her what I’ve been doing for the Order, finishing off what she was doing when she’d been cursed, hoping she would have been proud of me.

I admit, talking to her photo probably isn’t healthy, but it does help to keep me going so I do it, I’m making no apologies for that. And it’s the only way I can still tell her how much I love her. I didn’t say it nearly often enough when she was alive, so I’m trying to make up for it now, hoping desperately that when she did die, she’d known. I’d hate for her to have doubted me at all, just because I hadn’t said it recently enough. She had to know – didn’t she?

Anyway, going to Prongs’ place gives me a purpose. I put the owls’ offerings on the bookcase so they’re out of the way, even though I haven’t really looked at them. Not sure I care, really. I tidy up a bit and do the dishes – I make a habit of doing that straight away these days, once I hadn’t done them before heading out and ended up being away for over a week, so when I got back they were growing all sorts of things. (Laura described them as a science experiment, which was a bit of a Muggle term but then again she was half Muggle so I was used to that.) And I bundle up all the sheets and things to wash them, all except her pillowcase. Maybe one day I’ll smell her on it again. When you don’t have much, you hang on to what you do have, even if it’s hopeless.

By now it’s just about time to leave. I saw the invitation too late to even think about taking the bike, so I decide I’ll just Floo over, it’s simpler than Apparating when your mind isn’t really on what you’re doing. It’s a pity I can’t take the bike, though – when I’m out on that is about the only time I still feel alive, when I’m not working. And the trip to Somerset is a nice long one, I might almost have felt human when I got there if I’d been able to ride.

Anyway, I take the Floo network, casting a regretful look at the bike and saying goodbye to Laura before I leave, and shortly afterwards arrive at the Potters’ house to see James, Lily, Moony, Wormtail and Mrs P all waiting for me. I hadn’t expected to see Mrs P there, but then again I hadn’t really thought about it – it is her house, still, after all. I’d expected to see Moony though: he can’t get a job and has no gold of his own so Prongs is supporting him. As for Wormtail, well he’s generally around for the ride. Can’t say I’m surprised he’s there either.

Prongs takes one look at me and guesses how I’m feeling, and so after Mrs P has given me a hug and fretted over how pale I look, he bustles her out and looks me in the eye. “You look awful. Want to go for a run?”

I know what he means – the woodland over the back fence. And things always feel less horrible when I’m Padfoot, so being able to go for a run as a dog will help me feel more human once we’re done. “Yeah, thanks, I would.”

He nods at Wormtail, then looks at Moony and Lily. “You two make our excuses for an hour or two, will you?”

“Of course.” Lily’s a good person, he’s done well with her. She’s almost as good as Laura, really. By the time they get married I might even be in the mood to be Best Man like he’s asked me.

A run through the forest as Padfoot does me the world of good. I’m able to get all the hurt and anger and frustration out of my system – well, as much of it as I can be expected to get out – and after an hour or so I do feel better, and almost good enough to put on a presentable face for Mrs P at lunch time.

As always, Popsy the house elf has outdone herself and lunch, when we eventually make it, is undoubtedly the best meal I’ve had in weeks. Mrs P has been fretting about me since the funeral, saying I’ve lost weight and I’m looking pale, so I probably should have expected it, but I do appreciate it all the same.

“We won’t say happy birthday,” Moony says, “because we’re guessing it’s not, but we had to mark the day.”

Wormtail nods.  “And this was the best we could come up with,” he adds. I give him half a smile. At least he understands, they all do, that I’m not going to be really happy again for a while. And as for getting older, well I feel like I’ve aged about twenty years in the past two months. Young doesn’t describe me any more.

“And you do need feeding up,” Mrs P goes on, “you’re looking terrible. And I say that in the most affectionate way, so don’t be offended.”

Another half smile. “Thanks, Mrs P,” I say. “I couldn’t be offended by you, you’re like my mum. Not my real mum, but my good mum.”

She beams at me; she always likes hearing things like that. But it’s true, if I could have chosen a mother I would have picked her, definitely not the one I was landed with.

“And we’ve got some good news for you,” Prongs says with a grin as he finishes his pudding. “Two bits, actually.”

“Firstly,” says Moony, “we got an owl from Dumbledore just before you arrived. Feel like doing some work?”

I look at him gratefully. “Tell me when and where and I’ll be there.”

“Thought you’d say that,” says Prongs, nodding. “We can leave this afternoon. They think they’ve found where Voldemort’s hiding so they need it scoped out.”

I smile – this is more like it. Something to take my mind off everything. “Excellent.”

Wormtail’s looking excited and I guess he’s probably looking forward to proving how useful he can be in his rat form. He’ll be good, seeing as he can get in almost anywhere without being noticed, but all I’m really thinking about is this being a brilliant opportunity to get out there and get things off my mind. If Wormtail’s enthusiastic, I’m even more so.

“And the second bit of news,” says Lily, “is I found something you might be interested in.” She reaches into her robes and pulls out a paper bag and hands it to me.

I take the bag. “What is it?”

She just smiles. “Look inside.”

It’s sealed up so I have to rip the bag to look inside, but when I do all I can see is a bit of parchment. What’s she giving me parchment for? But then I pull it out and catch a glimpse of Laura’s handwriting. A letter, something she wrote, something else I can remember her by. I open it greedily.

> _Dear Lily_
> 
> _How lovely to hear from you! I was hoping you and James were okay, off in the Midlands like that for a week when there have been so many Death Eater attacks there. I will say I was more than a little worried about you, so I’m glad to hear everything is going well._
> 
> _You have caught me in the middle of packing, I’m starting to move my things into Sirius’ place like he’s been asking for so long. And it felt awful, having to say no all the time and seeing his face fall, but I really couldn’t do it before I had some gold coming in. And I know he understood that, but he was still disappointed. Anyway, now I’ve got this job there’s nothing to stop me, even though Mum and Dad are a bit upset. You know how I feel, though, I’m sure – the prospect of waking up next to him every morning is too good to refuse._
> 
> _The job is going okay though I’ve only been there a couple of weeks, so it’s hard to say how it’ll turn out. Of course as the school leaver I’m stuck with all the boring tasks like filing and sweeping up the owl feathers and droppings, but they assure me that in a month or so there will be some more interesting things for me to do. And at least it’s a job, it’s nice to have some gold of my own and there are some good prospects for me to move up through the ranks if I’m good enough. So watch this space, you may be reading a letter from a future Minister! (Yeah, okay, probably not, but you never know…)_
> 
> _Anyway, that’s all that’s going on at this end, and you’ll forgive me if I cut this letter short. After all, the more time I spend writing to you the less time I’m spending packing, so really you’re keeping me away from Sirius. And you don’t want to be responsible for that, do you? So say hi to James for me and I’ll see you when you get back, hopefully in the same number of pieces as when you left. Be careful and with any luck next time we catch up I’ll be living in London!_
> 
> _Love,  
>  Laura_

She’s been keeping it in an enclosed space, too, I can tell, it still smells a bit of Laura. I just look at her, tears in my eyes, but she understands.

“You’re welcome,” she says.

Maybe this isn’t such a bad birthday after all.


	25. A visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> February 1979

Charlotte stepped out of the fireplace into the Leaky Cauldron, tightly clutching her handbag. She hated coming to Diagon Alley by herself, especially now it was so dangerous to be out alone, but sometimes she didn’t have a choice, and if she didn’t make it to Gringott’s today then she couldn’t pay her rent. She looked nervously around before pulling her hood up over her head and making her way to the back door, taking a deep breath as she steeled herself for what lay beyond.

“Charlotte!” She wouldn’t usually have turned at the sound of her name, having heard horror stories of people who had done just that and turned to find a Death Eater who had known them at school or as a child or something similar. However, this time she recognised the voice and it was with relief that she turned to its owner.

“Remus,” she said with a smile. “What are you doing here?”

“Just got back from Hogsmeade,” he said noncommittally. She knew what that meant – he’d been to see Dumbledore – but she also knew he couldn’t say that out loud. It was too dangerous.

She nodded. “I’m just off to Gringott’s,” she said, hoping desperately he’d offer to come with her. When he did just that, her sigh of relief was so loud it could probably have been heard in the alley behind the brick wall.

“You okay?” he asked her as they made their way down the cobbled street.

She nodded. “I don’t like coming here anymore,” she admitted. “Too many shops have closed, and too many Death Eaters around. Even if you don’t know they’re Death Eaters, I mean.” She looked up at him. “But with someone, it’s not so bad, if you know what I mean.”

He smiled. “I know exactly what you mean,” he agreed. “Some things are easier when you’ve got company.”

“Especially Gringotts,” she went on. “I know it’s safe and all, but part of me can’t help but feel that the goblins, if they’re on anyone’s side, are on his.”

She couldn’t help herself gripping him a little more tightly than usual as they headed up the marble stairs into the bank, but relaxed when they got inside. In stark contrast to the dank feel the alley now had, the lamps were turned up and the goblins serving all looked – if it was possible – almost friendly. There was an air of safety and reassurance resonating from every counter and, for the first time that day, Charlotte felt her fear fading away. Flashing a grin at Remus, she headed for the nearest teller.

Not long afterwards they left the marble building, Charlotte’s purse jangling with the gold she’d withdrawn. “I was going to drop in to see Sirius,” Remus said mildly as they walked together down the stairs and back towards the Leaky Cauldron. “Did you want to come too? It’d be nice, I think.”

She hesitated. She wasn’t sure if he meant it would be nice for him or for Sirius, and she still wasn’t really sure where she sat with him. It was February fifteenth, for example, and he hadn’t been in touch with her the previous day, nor had he mentioned it since they’d met that morning. Yet he was still happy to behave like a boyfriend – sometimes. It was incredibly frustrating, and she knew she shouldn’t put up with it, but then again it was Remus. Somehow that made it all okay.

“Sure,” she said finally. “Why not? It’s not like I’ve got anything else to do this afternoon.”

They Apparated to a part of London she didn’t know and she followed him to a modern block of flats, climbing one flight of stairs and stopping at a door at the end of the corridor. Remus turned to look at her.

“You haven’t been here before, have you?”

Charlotte shook her head. “Nope.”

He smiled weakly. “Don’t expect too much. He may not even have tidied up; he’s not always the best at that. Or, whatever girl he picked up last night may still be here, that’s always possible.”

She looked at him, surprised. “He really does that?”

Remus shrugged. “Occasionally. I think it’s more something to do than anything else. We never see them more than once, though.” Dropping her hand, he knocked three times on the door.

A moment later it opened, Sirius looking a little unkempt and running a hand hurriedly through his hair. “Moony!” he cried, obviously pleased. “Charlotte! Come in, come in.”

Remus smiled as they followed him inside. “Cleaner than I was expecting, Padfoot,” he chuckled. “What, did you know we were coming?”

Sirius shook his head as he pulled some butterbeers out of the cupboard. “No, I’ve been procrastinating,” he admitted. “I’ve been meaning to get Laura’s stuff out and go through it, you know, send it back to her parents, but I can’t bring myself to start. So I did the cleaning as a way of putting it off. Now,” he went on, changing the subject, “would you rather sit inside or outside?”

“It’s freezing outside,” Charlotte protested, already standing in front of the fire to warm her legs. “This is one of the coldest winters on record. Why would we go out there?”

“Because I’ve adjusted the atmospheric charm to make it a very pleasant twenty degrees,” Sirius said with a smile. “There are that many screening charms on the balcony the weather can’t get in any more. Owls, yes, but not the weather. Makes thunderstorms interesting, I’ll say that much.”

A while later, sitting on the balcony (which was indeed very agreeable, despite the snowstorm swirling around in front of them), Charlotte felt brave enough to bring back the subject of Sirius’ procrastination. “If you don’t mind me asking, how much of Laura’s stuff is actually here? I don’t see any, and it doesn’t look like you’ve got a lot of storage space.”

Sirius shrugged, a shadow passing over his face briefly. “To be honest, I don’t really know. I’ve got an idea, of course, but I haven’t really looked at it since … well, for months.” He paused and Charlotte knew what he meant – since the funeral. Sirius continued. “I got it out, and I’ve even opened it, but it was a bit much to deal with. There’s a fair amount, though, because she was half moved in here. Prongs and Lily packed it all up into a shoebox with an Undetectable Extension Charm on it, and ever since Christmas I’ve been meaning to go through it to send it back, because I know I should, but, well, I can’t.” He paused again, rubbing his unshaven chin distractedly with one hand. “It’d be like sending her back, you know?”

“Why go through it at all?” Remus asked. “Why not just send it back as it is?”

Charlotte put a hand on his arm. “Because he wants to see if there’s anything he wants to keep,” she said quietly. She looked at Sirius for confirmation, and the way he was staring into the distance, not speaking, told her she was right.

“That’s why her picture is still up, isn’t it?” she went on gently. “Because you don’t want to let go of her yet?”

Remus grinned suddenly. “Though it’d be interesting hearing him explain it to the girls he brings back here,” he said cheekily. “Why there’s a picture of someone else on the bookcase.”

Sirius looked like he didn’t want to go any further into this. “Hey, if they get jealous of someone who’s dead then that’s their problem,” he said shortly. “I’m not apologising for it, and I’m not taking it down.”

_It’s not that, though_ , Charlotte thought. It was that Laura’s ghost, for want of a better word, was very obviously present in the flat, and the overwhelming impression was that everything Sirius did was with her in mind. Looking back through the window and into the bedroom, she saw that another photo of her hadn’t been put away, this one next to the bed. Any girl who came here would be competing with someone they could never live up to, no matter what they did, for the simple reason Laura could now do no wrong.

“So, where’s the girl from last night?” Remus was asking. “You must have got rid of her nice and early.”

Sirius looked confused. “What girl from last night?”

“Well, it was Valentines,” Remus pointed out. “I was making the assumption that there would have been _someone_ here.”

Sirius shook his head. “Nope, never got around to it,” he said. “All that happened last night was I got drunk. Which I’ve been paying for today, I might add. Not a good time to run out of Sobering Solution.” He smiled ruefully. “But let’s cut to the chase, Moony. You’re not just here to give me crap about my drinking habits, are you?”

Remus grinned. “You’ve got me there,” he admitted. “I was up at Hogsmeade this morning. Dumbledore’s got some work he wants us to do.”

“’Bout time,” Sirius muttered. “I’ve been twiddling my thumbs for days.”

“You’ve only been back for four days,” Remus pointed out. “Even you are entitled to a break sometimes, you know.”

“If I want one,” Sirius shot back. “He knows I’d rather be out there. So what is it this time? Nosing around old family friends again?” Charlotte smiled to herself – even though she hadn’t joined this Order they kept talking about, even she knew his last three assignments had all been dealing with people he’d known as a child. “Because I’ve had enough of that to last me a lifetime.”

“No, we’re not so lucky this time,” Remus grinned. “I reckon this one’s a stranger even to you. Bloke by the name of Macnair – ever heard of him?”

Sirius shook his head and downed the last of his butterbeer. “Should I have?”

“No,” Remus confirmed. “No one has, it seems. But the name’s been cropping up a few times of late and they want to find out who he is. So that’s our job.”

“Is that all?” Sirius groaned. “Can’t Wormtail do that? He’d be great, what with the rat thing and everything.”

“Which Dumbledore doesn’t know about,” Remus said warningly, and Charlotte noticed his eyes flick in her direction. This must have been something to do with one of their secrets, she decided. Remus’ life was built on them and most of them he’d opted not to share with her. _Just more evidence that shows we’re not really a couple._ “He’s part of it,” Remus went on. “Dumbledore seems to want to get the four of us back working together again.”

Charlotte cast a quick look at him; there was something that got her attention here, though she wasn’t sure what it was. Even though his voice and face were both benign, she had a feeling this directive was intended to keep Sirius sane and on track, rather than letting him disengage from groups of people he didn’t know so well. It was the sort of thing their ex-Headmaster was likely to do.

“Well, if it’s all of us ... ” Sirius seemed to consider that. “Yeah, that’d be fun. We don’t hang out enough anymore, do we?”

Remus smiled. “Glad you’re in. We meet at Prongs’ place at ten tomorrow. You okay for that or do you want a reminder in the morning?”

Sirius laughed. “You must think I’m a complete mental case,” he said, punching his friend lightly on the arm. “I’m not that bad, mate. Ten o’clock it is.”

****

“So, will this one be dangerous?” Charlotte asked as they left some time later. “This job you’re doing, that is.”

Remus shrugged. “Probably not,” he said lightly. “These search-and-identify type jobs are generally pretty sedate. Of course, if Macnair turns out to be one of Voldemort’s pseudonyms then we might be in trouble, but I doubt it.”

Charlotte felt the involuntary intake of breath at the use of Voldemort’s name, then felt ashamed of herself for reacting like that. The boys and Lily didn’t baulk at using the name, and she knew at an intellectual level there was no reason for her to do so either, but she couldn’t help herself. Too many years of being taught at home that it was something she mustn’t do were proving difficult to shake.

“Does You-Know-Who use pseudonyms, then?” she asked, hoping she sounded braver than she felt.

Remus shrugged again. “We think so,” he said, “but we don’t know for sure. It just sets off the alarm bells when a name crops up that never appeared on the Hogwarts registry, that’s all.”

“Right.” She tried to sound like she wasn’t worried sick. It wasn’t like they were really boyfriend and girlfriend, after all, so she decided to change the subject. “So, then, are you going to keep an eye on Sirius like Dumbledore wants?”

He chuckled. “You picked up on that, did you? Yes, that’s one reason he’s putting the gang back together. That, and James and Sirius in particular do work better with the rest of us around. Wormtail, too, now I think of it. So it’s a win-win situation.”

“Right,” she said again. “And you’re going to look out for each other, aren’t you?” She had to admit that she was happier with Remus going out on an assignment for the Order if he had James and Sirius by his side; it made her feel much more confident he was going to come back alive.

He chuckled again and reached for her hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. “Yes, I should be coming back uninjured,” he said lightly, answering her unspoken question. “I can rely on those three to watch my back.”

“And if you can’t trust them,” she said, starting to feel more confident already, “I guess you can’t trust anyone.”

“Exactly,” he agreed. “Now, let me get you home safely. I’d hate for something to happen because I kept you out after dark.”

She smiled and let him put an arm around her. “Thank you.”

 


	26. New beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> July 1979

Sirius was sitting alone at the head table, a half empty glass of firewhisky in front of him and a rather preoccupied look on his face. Left alone for the time being due to Remus’ hosting duties, Charlotte went over and sat with him.

“How’s it going?” she asked, casting a shrewd eye over him.

“Not bad,” he said with a shrug. “How about you? I heard you’re leaving us soon.”

Charlotte nodded. “Yes, I’m going to America. Things are getting too complicated here.”

Sirius jerked his head towards Remus. “Anything to do with him?”

Charlotte hesitated, then decided to tell him what was happening. After all, they were friends, she should be honest with him. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Sirius didn’t say anything, just took a sip of his drink and waited for her to go on.

“I hate to admit it,” Charlotte went on eventually, “but he was right. About the whole werewolf thing. It’s too hard, trying to make it work. I don’t have the guts to tell my parents about it because I know how they’d react – Uncle Quentin was grandstanding about it only a couple of weeks ago and they were sitting there agreeing with him. And he can’t find work so he keeps grumbling about having to rely on James … ” She paused again. “I do love him, I really do, but we can’t go on like that.”

“So you’re running away.” It wasn’t a question, and Charlotte felt even worse.

“Running towards, actually,” she said a little defensively. “I met someone else, a couple of months ago …”

Sirius turned to look at her. “An American?”

Charlotte nodded. “Yes, an American. He was here on holiday and asked me for directions. And he’s so sweet, and kind, and … _normal_ …”

Sirius looked almost a little angry, and Charlotte started to regret telling him. “Does Moony know?”

She nodded again. “Yes, of course he knows. And he understands. I’ve tried, I really have, but it’s just so hard. And much as I hate to say it, he doesn’t make things much easier.”

Sirius looked pensive again. “No, he probably doesn’t,” he said after a pause. “He does get a bit worked up about it sometimes.”

“I don’t know what I’d have done without you and James and Peter,” Charlotte said. “You make it so much better for him.”

Sirius smiled. “Glad to help.”

There was a bit of an awkward pause and Charlotte noticed Sirius’ eyes drifting towards James and Lily, together on the dance floor, and that thoughtful look came back to his face.

“You still miss her, don’t you,” she said quietly. Again, it wasn’t a question.

He paused, probably deciding how much to let on. Finally he nodded slowly, and when he spoke his voice was muted. “Always.”

She reached over and gave his hand a squeeze. “I’m sure, wherever she is, she misses you too.”

“I just wish …” he said, then paused again. “I just wish we could have had one more day. An hour, even, so I could have said goodbye. And told her how much …” his voice trailed off.

Charlotte stifled a laugh. “How much you loved her? Sirius, she knew that, I can guarantee that much.”

He stole a look at her. “Did she? I don’t know, Charlotte, I was never very good at saying it.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Charlotte said. “We all knew it, she had to. Anyone with half a brain would have known that. You just had to look at you. And if it helps, she loved you too, that was pretty obvious.”

He smiled a little reminiscently. “Yes, she did, didn’t she? Never understood why, myself, but she used to get this look in her eyes …”

Charlotte stifled another laugh. “You mean like the look you’re getting right now?”

“Oh.” He was quiet again, his eyes back on James and Lily, who had stopped dancing and were talking to various well-wishers. “It was just … that was going to be us, you know?”

“I know,” she said quietly.

He shook his head suddenly and picked up his drink again, downing it in one go, and she followed his eyes to where Lily was now being waylaid by a drunken wedding guest. “It’s all in the past, Charlotte, not much point dwelling on it anymore,” he said, his voice much sharper than it had been a minute earlier. “And if I’m not mistaken, it looks like the bride needs rescuing, so I think I’m needed over there.” And without another word or even a look in her direction, he stood up and headed towards Lily.

Charlotte sighed. She should have known not to bring it up – Laura had died less than a year ago and Sirius still wasn’t completely over it – and now she missed the company. She didn’t like being left alone these days, it was too easy to get lost in thought and that only ended up depressing her. She missed being young and carefree like they had all been at school. She was only nineteen, she felt like she shouldn’t have the worries of the world on her shoulders, and it was partly in the hope of escaping that, of leaving the war and all its accompanying heartbreak behind, that she had agreed to go abroad in the first place. She could see how it looked like running away – and in a sense it probably was – but it was something she needed to do. Lily didn’t need her any more, she had James, Martha would always be able to take care of herself, and the boys all had each other. Even Remus, who she thought loved her as much as he was able to love anyone, even Remus probably wouldn’t really miss her. It would be a clean break, a chance to start over.

Her silent reverie was interrupted by Martha, who sat down in the chair Sirius had vacated with a goblet and a bottle of champagne. “You looked like you could use some company,” Martha said confidently, making a show at filling her own glass from the bottle before holding it up for Charlotte to look at. “Top up?”

Charlotte looked at her gratefully. “Thanks, Martha, I’d love one. I think you must have been reading my mind.”

Martha looked keenly at her. “That bad, huh?” She paused. “I guess the next party will be your farewell, won’t it?”

“Probably,” Charlotte admitted. “Only a couple more months and I’m off.”

“And how does Remus feel about it all?”

“He understands,” Charlotte said wryly. “I could even make him feel like it was his idea, he’d probably like that. Gets him off the hook.”

“It must be hard,” Martha said, downing her champagne in one go. “I do feel for him.”

“And so do I,” Charlotte said defensively. “But he has to learn that I can make my own decisions. He spends so much time trying not to hurt anyone else that he forgets we’re intelligent people who can make up our own minds on it.”

Martha nodded. “Yes, I can see that.”

“And I’m not running away,” Charlotte went on, almost savagely as she tried to defend her decision.

“I never thought you were,” Martha said. “I’m on your side, remember?”

Charlotte relaxed. “I know. I just feel so bad about it all. And Sirius didn’t help, either.”

“Ah, well, he’s got his own demons,” Martha said wisely. “I wouldn’t put too much stock in what he thinks.”

Charlotte smiled. “Yes, fair enough. And really, I’ve got a whole new life to look forward to across the pond.”

“And we can’t wait to hear about it,” Martha said with a grin, pouring herself a new drink and raising her glass. “To new beginnings, for the happy couple, for Sirius, for Remus and for you.”

Charlotte raised her glass as well. “To new beginnings,” she repeated. “I like the sound of that.”


	27. Futility

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> November 1981

He stood looking at the ruins of the street, oblivious to the screams and wails of bystanders and the sound of approaching Muggle emergency sirens – police, perhaps, or maybe an ambulance. Whatever it was, it all fit. He was here, holding his wand, at the scene of all this death and destruction. He might as well have cast the curse himself, he was that much to blame. It was the same as everything.

First Laura, then James and Lily, now all these innocent Muggles. No matter what he did, he couldn’t escape the horrible reality. Not for the first time, he half wondered if his family had cursed him when he’d left, to make sure he could never live a happy, normal life, to kill everyone he cared about. He couldn’t escape it.

Everything he touched turned to death.

He barely even noticed when he was surrounded by Hit Wizards, grabbing at him, taking his wand out of his hand. What was the point? He’d tried his hardest to do what was right, and it was all being thrown back in his face. Everyone he’d loved had either betrayed them or died … well, everyone but Moony, and while he did love Moony he hadn’t seen him in ages, he was that embedded with the werewolves.

_Why bother fighting any more?_

He thought of Peter, little inadequate Peter, inconsequential Peter, and how he’d managed to fool them all. And he thought of the irony of being arrested for Peter’s murder when in fact that was the one thing he hadn’t managed to achieve. Everyone else was dead, why not Wormtail?

Actually, it was so ironic it was almost funny. And once he got that thought into his head, he couldn’t get it out, and he started to laugh. Laugh at the fact he was being arrested for something he’d failed at; laugh at the fact there was nothing left to fight for; laugh at the fact it was all so futile. What did it matter if he went to Azkaban now? He didn’t have anyone or anything left to fight for. His whole world was gone, turned upside down, and now he felt like he didn’t even care. Not about himself, not about Voldemort. Everything had fallen apart.

Over the next couple of days, he realised that even if he had wanted to plead his case, he was never given an opportunity. No one even asked him what his version of events was, everyone just assumed that he had betrayed James and Lily, had killed Peter and all those Muggles. It just proved how little they knew him, he thought bitterly. He’d been willing to align himself with Muggles by marriage, had counted them as family, he certainly wasn’t interested in killing them. But no one considered that, no one even thought there might be an explanation other than the obvious.

 _My own fault_ , he thought resentfully. _If I hadn’t insisted on secrecy with the change of Secret-Keeper, then everyone would have known it was Wormtail who betrayed them. I would never have done that._ But no, he heard his custodians talking among themselves, saying that Dumbledore himself had sworn Sirius was the Secret-Keeper and, according to the Ministry, that settled it.

If Dumbledore said it, it must be true.

Sirius laughed bitterly. Dumbledore was wrong about a lot of things, he knew that much, and this was certainly one of them. Did the man really believe no one had any secrets from him? He had a lot to learn. But he did hold an aura of such respectability and extreme knowledge it was hard not to believe him, Sirius could accept that. So, with Dumbledore’s testimony (such as it was), he was doomed.

 _Not that I don’t deserve it._ _It’s my fault they’re all dead, my fault all this happened. If anyone deserves Azkaban, it’s me._

_And Peter._

That was the only thing he really resented, that Peter had escaped. Without a living Pettigrew, even if he _was_ given the chance to tell his story, no one would believe it. He’d heard that the biggest part of Peter they’d found after the explosion was his finger … well, it was clear enough what had happened there. He’d faked his own death, cut off his finger and hightailed it into the sewers where he belonged. At least he was condemned to live as a rat for the rest of his life: Sirius could take some solace in that. He couldn’t go back to human form because he was supposed to be dead, and he had no master to re-join. It wasn’t exactly Azkaban, but it was a start.

_Don’t worry, Peter, I’ll get you. I’ll get you someday. Even if it’s the last thing I do._

He was absolutely determined about this. He was the only one who knew Peter was still alive, and he was the only one who could prove that Peter was the one who had done this to James and Lily. Even if he was stuck in gaol, he’d work something out. Peter would be held responsible for his actions. Peter, the rat, would pay.

“You ready, Black?” The voice cut into his thoughts and he looked up to see his guard standing outside his cell, wand in hand. “Time to go to the boat. You’re heading to Azkaban.”

Well, it wasn’t anything he hadn’t expected, and he saw no point in trying to resist now. There wasn’t anything he could really do, aside from search the countryside for a brown rat that could be literally anywhere. Dumbly he just nodded and allowed his hands to be bound once more.

“Thought you might be a bit more talkative, Black,” the guard said conversationally as he led him to the Floo that was going to take them to the docks. “After all, I’ll probably be the last human being you see for a while.”

Sirius just shook his head dully. “Got nothing to say.”

At the other end of the Floo, the guard just nodded. “You know, for a mass murderer, you’re pretty docile,” he commented. “Wish they were all as easy as you. Right, here we are.” He pushed Sirius onto the boarding platform for a boat, on which the presence of Dementors was already stifling his senses. In his mind’s eye he could see the bodies of James and Lily, the screaming form of Harry, the carnage in the street after Wormtail’s curse, the emaciated form of Laura as she lay dying. All his worst memories, all crowding for space in his head. _Something else to get used to._

He could just make out the voice of the guard handing him over. “All yours, boys.” And then, nothing but blackness as he impact of the Dementors invaded his psyche once more. He was condemned to hell, he knew that – a hell where all he would know was how he had played a role in all those worst memories.

_What have I done?_

But before he could even finish that thought, he knew what he had done. He had as good as killed everyone who was important to him. He might have been heading straight for hell, but it wasn’t like he had anything to live for anyway.

 _Get used to it_ , he told himself stoically, setting his gaze on the grey horizon of the North Sea. _It’s all you deserve._


	28. Unearthing old skeletons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> August 1995

Hermione was looking curiously at the Black family tapestry, gazing at the places where various people had been blasted off for displeasing the family. “Sirius,” she said, her eyes fixed on the burn mark where his name used to be, “if you’d married a pure-blood, would they have accepted you again?” Her eyes rose to where he was by the green velvet curtains, where Mrs Weasley had reported finding a couple of Doxys that had survived their purge earlier that week.

Sirius looked over at her. “Nah, I was beyond help as far as they were concerned,” he said carelessly. “Besides, she was a half-blood.” He stopped suddenly, as though realising he’d said too much.

She looked at him keenly, her senses awakened. “Was there someone you were going to marry, Sirius?” she asked gently, knowing that any wrong move could send him off into another sulk and she’d never get another word out of him. Like all fifteen year old girls she was always up for a good love story and didn’t want to ruin her chances of hearing this one.

Sirius just shrugged as though he didn’t know the answer, but his face had become closed and Hermione knew she had hit the mark. “What happened?” she asked, her voice still gentle.

“She died,” Sirius said shortly, his back now towards her. “And if it’s alright with you I’d rather not talk about it.” 

Hermione kept silent but resolved inwardly to find out more about this. Later that night in the bedroom they shared she related what she’d learned to Ginny, who was also keen to hear more about it. They decided to ask Lupin whenever an opportunity came up, reasoning that as one of Sirius’ best friends he was bound to know the story.

This opportunity came a few days later when Harry was at his hearing and the house was in a state of nervous tension. Ginny and Hermione left Ron in the kitchen trying to assuage his nerves with food and found Lupin in the dining room, the newspaper open in front of him but his mind clearly elsewhere.

“Professor Lupin,” Hermione began tentatively, “we were talking to Sirius the other day … ”

Lupin looked at them. “What’s he been saying now?” he asked, an indulgent expression on his face.

“It was more what he didn’t say,” she admitted, purposefully sitting at the table opposite him. “He said something about a girl who died, a half-blood, but then he clammed up and wouldn’t say anything else.”

A small smile crossed Lupin’s tired face. “He couldn’t keep quiet about her forever,” he said as if to himself. “It was bound to come out some time.”

“So you know about it?” Ginny was all eagerness. She had joined Hermione at the table, a cloud of dust rising from the chair cushion as she sat down.

Lupin was looking at them shrewdly. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To try to coax it out of me,” he said, an understanding look on his face. The girls both nodded earnestly, their faces hopeful. “I don’t know, girls, if Sirius doesn’t want the story out then I’ve got no right to go behind his back.”

Hermione shook her head. “But he didn’t say he didn’t want us to know, just that he didn’t want to talk about it. There’s a big difference.” She gave him her most winning smile, hoping it would work.

Lupin smiled indulgently. “I can’t win an argument against you, can I, Hermione?” he said. “Okay. I’ll talk. It was a long time ago, though, so I might not remember it all.”

“How long ago?” asked Ginny interestedly. 

“We were still at school. She died only two or three months after we graduated.”

“What happened? How did she die?”

“What was her name?” Hermione’s and Ginny’s voices clashed as they clamoured for information.

“One at a time,” said Lupin with a smile. “Her name was Laura. And she was killed by Death Eaters.”

Hermione heard Ginny’s sharp intake of breath. “Death Eaters? Really? Why?”

“It was a bit tricky trying to work that out at the time,” said Lupin, “but we managed to piece it together eventually. They tried to recruit her sister. Her sister was really bright, very very bright, but didn’t have much common sense. So she asked Laura to come with her to meet with them, not realising what they were, for what she thought was a job interview. Which I suppose it was, in a way.” He paused, looking at the girls’ faces. “Anyway, the sister said no, and you probably know Death Eaters don’t take kindly to that, so they attacked. It was five against two.”

Ginny looked horrified and Hermione was sure her own face probably had a similar expression on it. “So they both died?” she asked in a whisper.

Lupin shook his head. “No, the sister was fine. Still alive now, as far as I know. Laura put a Shield Charm around her and Stunned a couple of the Death Eaters before she was hit. James and Sirius had taught her how to duel so she was pretty good at defending herself, but there were just too many of them. They were fighting in a Muggle area and the authorities came pretty quickly to find out why there were so many curses flying around, but she was already down by the time they got there.”

“That’s awful,” breathed Ginny. “So she got hit with the Killing Curse trying to help her sister.”

“Not the Killing Curse, Ginny,” Lupin corrected. “They never worked out what had hit her. Whatever it was got her right on the temple, here.” He indicated a spot between his right eye and his hairline. “She was still breathing but she was effectively brain dead. They held her in St Mungo’s while they waited for her to die. That was where Sirius saw her.”

Hermione realised she and Ginny were gripping each other’s arms tightly as they heard the story. No wonder Sirius was so bitter, if he’d had this to deal with just out of school. “Was he very upset?” Hermione asked quietly.

“Devastated,” Lupin said. “Didn’t speak for a week. He spent a lot of time as a dog, said it was less painful that way. They were crazy about each other. His face would light up if you just mentioned her name.” He paused. “Though, in hindsight, it was probably great for the Order. After she died, Sirius volunteered for all the suicide missions, the most dangerous assignments. And he was one of the best we had so if anyone could pull them off, he could. I think he was a bit disappointed he made it through alive sometimes.” He smiled grimly. “And Harry can thank her for dying as well, in a way. James and Lily announced their engagement right after the funeral. James had planned to wait a bit longer – I think till they were twenty, was what he was thinking – but it just reinforced how little time they might have.”

Hermione nodded. “Sirius hinted he had planned to marry her,” she said, wanting to get back to the story.

Lupin smiled reminiscently. “And so he would have done, if she’d lived. I don’t doubt it for a moment. Like I said, they were crazy about each other. It was the happiest I ever saw him. But they were both only eighteen, he probably figured they had years yet. I remember thinking that after she died, he was genuinely surprised that the sun kept coming up.”

“What was she like?” Ginny asked in a hesitant voice.

“Quiet. And gentle,” said Lupin. 

Ginny snorted disbelievingly, though she tried to cover it up with a cough. “And she was with Sirius?”

Lupin laughed. “Yes, Ginny, we had the same reaction at first,” he said. “Opposite attracting and all that sort of thing. But it turned out they weren’t as different as we’d thought, really, and they were good for each other. He brought her out of her shell a bit, and she was a moderating influence on him. He did become less reckless when they were together. Of course, once she died, he went right back to the way he was before, if not more so.”

Hermione smiled. “I’m trying to imagine it,” she said.

“She was quite a pretty girl,” added Lupin, a bit of a faraway look on his face as he remembered. “Not as beautiful as Lily, but she had her own attractions. She was full of surprises, too – she was an expert on broom construction and an excellent throw, neither of which you would have guessed if you didn’t know her well. She knew all sorts of jinxes that her sister had invented and didn’t hesitate to use them. And she had a rather warped sense of humour, which of course set Sirius right off. She would say the most outrageous things and manage to keep a straight face, so you weren’t sure whether or not she was joking.”

Ginny nodded understandingly. “Okay, I can see now why he would have liked her. They would have bounced off each other.”

“Exactly,” said Lupin with a smile. 

“So what did she look like?” Hermione asked, trying to picture a young Sirius with an as-yet-undescribed girl.

Lupin considered. “About a head shorter than him, slim, almost delicate looking. Long brown hair, mostly straight but it had a bit of a curl to it. Which she hated, from memory, she wanted it to be straight. It was the seventies,” he said with a grin, his eyes on the girls’ faces which betrayed their confusion. “Brown eyes, I think,” he went on, his brow furrowing slightly. “Quiet voice with a slight Welsh accent. Actually,” he said, looking around vaguely as if expecting to see something appear from nowhere, “I’d be very surprised if there’s not a picture of her around this house somewhere. Probably on the top floor, if you get my meaning. Or in an inside pocket of his robes. If you catch him in the right mood, he might even show you.”

They nodded – the top floor was where Sirius slept, in the bedroom he’d had as a child. Hermione looked tentatively at Lupin.

“But that was so long ago! Shouldn’t he have got over her by now?”

Lupin smiled briefly at her. “To be honest, Hermione, he hasn’t really had the best life for getting over people. Twelve years in Azkaban, and his life since he got out hasn’t exactly been conducive to starting a new relationship. Being an escaped mass-murderer with a ten thousand Galleon price on your head doesn’t make these things easy.”

She considered what he’d said. “I suppose so,” she finally agreed. “That’s really sad, though, that he hasn’t been able to move on from something that happened when he was a teenager.”

Lupin nodded. “His whole adult life has been sad. First Laura died, which he was convinced was his fault, then it was his idea of switching Secret Keepers that killed James and Lily, and Dumbledore wouldn’t let him take Harry even though he’d promised them he’d look after him. And then twelve years with the Dementors outside his cell day and night, serving time for a crime he didn’t commit, and once he got out Peter escaped so he can’t prove his innocence, so he’s stuck in a house he hates because Dumbledore doesn’t want him going outside. It hasn’t exactly been a walk in the park for him. I can understand why he might cling to memories of when he was happy, no matter how long ago it was.”

Ginny looked very upset by this story, and Hermione considered that perhaps she hadn’t heard it in its entirety before, or maybe she just hadn’t put the pieces together. In any case she clearly now appreciated just what their host had gone through. “Why would he think it was his fault she – Laura – died?” Ginny asked, plainly pouncing on something she didn’t quite understand.

Lupin hesitated. “Part of that was due to her parents, I think,” he said eventually. “He’d promised them he would protect her, and then she died. And her father pretty much came out and said that he blamed Sirius, that if he’d been protecting her like he’d said then it wouldn’t have happened.”

Hermione gasped in horror. “But that’s completely unfair.” 

Lupin nodded. “Yes, it was, and he apologised afterwards. But people say things sometimes when they’re hurting that they would never say otherwise, and I think he needed to blame somebody. After all, he’d just lost his daughter. And Sirius just happened to be there. Being Sirius, of course, he took the blame, even if realistically it was nothing to do with him.”

“But why?” Ginny looked puzzled.

“He told himself that if he’d been there she wouldn’t have died,” Lupin said simply. “Sirius has always been good at accepting the blame for things like that. You could call it overconfidence in his own abilities, but he’s always felt responsible for Laura, and also for James and Lily. Even if none of them were actually his fault.”

Hermione shook her head. “But if he wasn’t even there, why would he feel responsible?”

“We were doing things for the Order,” Lupin said with a bit of a sigh. “We weren’t fully joined up yet, because at that time Dumbledore liked people to run a few missions before they signed up so they knew exactly what they were getting into. Anyway, he and James and Lily were on an assignment over on the Continent trying to dig out some information, and they’d been away for a couple of weeks, which I think was the longest that he and Laura had been apart since they’d got together. James said he was getting unbearable, he missed her that much.” He paused, his brow furrowed once more. 

“Towards the end of the mission an owl came for Sirius, just with his name on it, no address, so it was lucky they’d used a smart owl. Anyway the letter said to come to St Mungo’s and ask for a particular Healer. No other information. So they all came back to England and went along the next day to find out what it was all about.” He took a breath. “Turned out Laura had been cursed a few days previously and was just lying in a hospital bed waiting to die. Her parents were her next of kin, of course, because she and Sirius hadn’t formalised anything, and they’d decided to withdraw treatment. Which is pretty horrible in itself, because in a case like that it means you remove all feeding methods and the person starves to death.”

Ginny gasped. “But that’s awful!”

Lupin nodded. “Yes, Ginny, it is. But there wasn’t anything else they could do. You can almost understand why her father lashed out at Sirius like he did – he had just made the decision to kill his youngest child, which is something no one should ever have to do. Anyway, they did ask that Sirius be notified first, only they didn’t know where he was. And Sirius, once he’d taken it all in, managed to convince himself that it was his fault because he’d been away longer than usual and if he’d been around he could have saved her.”

Hermione was saddened but not surprised by this. “But then he’s not being fair on himself. He may not have been able to do anything. Honestly, would he really have gone with her to accompany her sister to a job interview?”

Lupin nodded again. “And that’s the logical way of looking at it, but when you’re in pain you’re not always logical. And I think he’s been in pain ever since it happened. It’s dulled now, but it’s still there.”

Hermione hesitated. “Do you think he still loves her, then?”

Lupin was quiet for a bit, as though considering the question. “Yes, I think he might,” he said finally. 

“But why wasn’t she doing things for the Order too?” asked Ginny. “Was she no good, or –”

“Well, because she wasn’t actually part of the Order-” Lupin began. 

Ginny interrupted him, shocked. “She wasn’t?”

Lupin shook his head. “None of us were at that point. She was invited, of course, and she’d gone on a mission or two, but she-” He paused, noting the incredulous look on the girls’ faces. “Look, it was different then. Not as well organised, far less intelligence, and far more dangerous. And she’d just started a new job at the Ministry so there was that to take into account, and I think she was about to move out of her parents’ house as well. So she had a lot on her plate. Dumbledore gave us all a good month to think about it, and by the time he needed an answer she was dead.”

“But she would have joined?” Ginny was persistent, plainly not understanding why anyone would have to even think about it.

“I think so,” Lupin said. “Her best friend had been killed by Death Eaters so she was keen to fight. She would have been good, too. She got an O in Defence Against the Dark Arts for her NEWTs, and Sirius and James had been teaching her how to fight so she could more than hold her own.” His brow furrowed a bit. “Though I think he would have wanted to keep her out of the action as much as he could. He was pretty protective of her.”

“Were they together a long time?” Hermione’s voice was little more than a whisper.

“Less than a year. They got together at Christmas time in seventh year. Though they’d been dancing around each other for months beforehand, each not realising the other was interested. It was rather funny to watch, actually.” A reminiscent smile crossed Lupin’s tired face. “But they were very deeply in love by the end. Pretty much inseparable. Peter was running a book before we’d even graduated on who’d get married first, them or James and Lily. Of course, once she died it became obsolete.

“I used to wonder,” he went on, changing the subject slightly, “back when he was in Azkaban and I thought he’d betrayed Harry’s parents, what would have happened if she’d lived. Because I could believe him to be the spy because you could argue that he’d lost everything already and was just throwing things away. I didn’t want to believe it, but the evidence did point that way. But I thought that if Laura was still alive, he wouldn’t have turned because she would never have accepted that. She accepted a lot of things – you’d have to, to be with Sirius – but Dark Magic wasn’t one of them. I thought her dying might have been the turning point.” He raked his hair distractedly with his fingers. “Of course, now we know that’s not what happened, but I had a long time to wonder about it.”

Lupin had stopped talking. Hermione wondered what he was thinking of, but she wasn’t sure what to say or how to ask. The story had been much sadder than she had originally thought – such a short time together and such a long time to get over her. She then thought about Ron and wondered whether he would hold a torch for her for almost twenty years, if their stories had been the same. Whether he’d ever hold a torch for her at all.

“Thanks,” she heard herself saying to break the silence. “We won’t tell him you’ve told us. He doesn’t need it brought up again.”

Lupin smiled at her. “Wisely said, Hermione,” he said, checking his watch. “And I’m not trying to cut this short, but I expect Harry will be back from his hearing soon … ”

They didn’t need telling again. They both hurried out of the room and down the stairs to the kitchen, where Ron, Mrs Weasley, Fred, George and Sirius were already waiting, their faces looking drawn by the light of the dwindling fire.

Hermione looked at Sirius, her thoughts about him a little different now she had heard his story from Lupin. She still wasn’t sure his judgement was always the best, but she had more sympathy and respect for him now she had heard his story.

Eventually, after waiting for an indeterminate amount of time during which they were all getting more and more anxious, they heard the welcome noise of the front door opening to signal Mr Weasley’s and Harry’s return. “Good news,” came Mr Weasley’s voice from up the stairs. “Cleared of all charges!”

“I knew it!” Ron yelled as his father and Harry appeared in the kitchen. “You always get away with stuff!”

Hermione felt like she was going to collapse from the weight of anxiety she had been feeling and was yet to be fully relieved of. “They were bound to clear you,” she said faintly to Harry, “there was no case against you, none at all.”

Mr Weasley was saying something to Sirius and Hermione thought again of the story Lupin had told, wondering what he would have been like if the girlfriend had lived. Smiling, she pulled her mind back to the present, back to the laughter and cheers. Sirius had wrapped Harry in an almost painful hug as he tousled his hair. Her best friend would be coming back to school with them the following month. She looked at Ron fondly and sat back down at the table opposite Harry, smiling to herself. No matter what had happened before, she was happy to return to the here and now. Life was for the living.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Text in bold comes from JK Rowling. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, pp 142-3 UK paperback edition.
> 
> Thanks to theelderwand for his beta work on this chapter.


	29. Reminders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> August 1995

Sirius climbed the stairs to the top of the house, Hermione’s words ringing in his ears. “Was there someone you were going to marry, Sirius?” _Hermione_ , he thought, _you don’t know the half of it_.

He hadn’t really thought about Laura in ages. Not properly, not like he should have, because he’d been trying to do what the Dementors had encouraged: forget her. And it wasn’t that he wanted to forget her – someone like her should be remembered forever and celebrated – but because, even now, it was still too painful. The first person he’d really loved, and the first one he’d failed so badly. The first one who had died because of him.

He reached his bedroom, the one he’d left behind as a teenager and was now forced to live in again, and shut the door behind him, reaching distractedly into a pocket as he did so. There it was: the photograph. Old, torn around the edges, even fraying in some places from being held too much, its very existence both thrilled and tormented him. Pulling it out and looking at it again, he tried to remember what it had been like to be so happy.

They _had_ been happy, he knew that. He’d never been happier. And their smiles showed that, their arms around each other – if he remembered correctly, James had interrupted them mid-snog and they’d just turned around and posed for the camera. He stared at the picture for a little while, watching as the young couple in it turned to each other again and kissed, just quickly, before looking back at the camera and grinning again in a bit of a guilty way.

“I’m sorry, Laura,” he whispered to the girl whose smiling face tore at his heart. “I’m so sorry.”

What he wouldn’t give to hold her again, he thought, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. What he wouldn’t give for just one more day – an hour even, or a minute. Anything. Because he’d tried holding other girls and it just wasn’t the same, they didn’t reach into his heart like Laura had and, well, their hair had smelled different. Put another way, they hadn’t been her, and he’d never really been able to forgive them for that.

 _Damn it_ , _I_ _don’t even remember what she smelled like anymore_. 

He threw the photograph onto the floor and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him, furious with himself once more for letting her die. For not being there to save her.

“Is that you, Sirius?” came Molly Weasley’s voice up the stairs. “Can you come into the dining room for a minute please?”

“Hell no,” he muttered under his breath. “Not now.” Frankly, the last thing he wanted was human company, so he detoured on the landing of the floor below and opened the door to his mother’s room. “Be down in a minute,” he called over his shoulder. “Just need to check on Buckbeak.”

“Well, when you’re done,” Molly said.

“Right,” he replied, closing the door and turning to the big Hippogriff before bowing to it. _This is much better_. _I don’t need to put on a face for you_.

Buckbeak was a blessing, he realised, because looking after the beast was something that devoured enough time and attention to stop him from dwelling too much on the past. Not that the present or the future held much hope or joy at the moment, but they beat the past hands down. At least, in this reality, since he’d got out of Azkaban, he hadn’t screwed anything up too momentously – or at least, no one had died because of something he’d done or a decision he had made. Overall, things were actually going remarkably well, if he excluded the fact he was stuck in this horrible house again. Once Voldemort was defeated he’d even be able to re-join society, maybe even learn how to live again.

“Damn you, Laura,” he muttered. “If you hadn’t existed, this would be so much easier …”

But he couldn’t even keep that façade up for long. Laura had been what had made it all worthwhile. No, if he was going to damn anyone, it would be Hermione. It was her fault. If she hadn’t dragged it all up again …

Sirius looked at the old wardrobe he’d hidden the bottles in, the Firewhisky that Molly and Arthur didn’t know about. Hell, even Moony didn’t know about these ones. _Just a swig_ , he thought. _Just to get her out of my head again._ And, once Buckbeak was happily feeding himself the dead rats Sirius had found (nice irony there, he realised), he wandered over, opened the wardrobe door and had a very quick drink.

“To Laura.”

It was the same toast every time, and every time it hurt to say it.

Another swig, again a quick one. _That’s enough_. _Just enough to put on a normal face to that lot downstairs._ Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and headed back out into the house.

“Now, Molly,” he heard himself saying as he made his way towards the dining room, and surprising himself by how natural he sounded, “what was it you wanted?”

 


	30. Starting again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> June 1996

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: This is the final chapter of this collection, and for those who wanted it, your happy ending. A huge thank you to everyone who has supported HTM and these one-shots over the past couple of years; it has been a wonderful experience for me to share them with you and your feedback has been incredibly useful. Thanks again.  
> Cheers, Mel xxx
> 
> Also, thanks must go to theelderwand for his amazing beta work on this chapter.
> 
> Disclaimer: Dialogue in bold is taken from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, p710 UK ed, paperback.

Sirius watched Snape's lip curl with satisfaction as he gazed at him, the instruction to stay behind to brief Dumbledore on what had happened utmost in his mind. No, he thought angrily, Snape wouldn't win this time. He would delegate the task; Kreacher could earn his keep for once. He had to get out, had to get to Harry before it was too late. The alternative was too awful to contemplate, and he was determined that would never happen again - he wouldn't lose someone else he loved because of his own stupidity or inaction.

As many fighters as were available hurried to the Department of Mysteries to find Harry and his friends surrounded by Death Eaters, and once the kids were safely out of the way the fighting became thick and fast on all sides. Sirius, high on adrenaline now he had finally gotten out of Grimmauld Place, found himself duelling his cousin Bellatrix in the Death Room. Bella's skills had not diminished during her stay in Azkaban. Wands flashing faster than you could see them, their duel reminded him of those they had fought when he was a teenager, taunting each other as they went.

 **"Come on, you can do better than that!"** he shouted, easily blocking the Stunning spell she sent at him. However, in that one moment as he laughed his guard lifted, and she used that split second opportunity to drop all pretence and hurl an Avada Kedavra his way. He felt the vague sensation of surprise before his body, hurtling backwards, fell through the veil.

Immediately everything went black. When he regained consciousness, he realised he was no longer in the Department of Mysteries. Bellatrix had disappeared, as had the other Death Eaters, as well as Moony, Tonks, Mad-Eye and Kingsley. Nowhere could he see Harry or his friends. It was barely a moment before he realised what must have happened.

"So this is death," he mused. "Simpler than I'd thought." He became aware of people around him, voices and faces from times long past, and looking around found he was able to recognise some of them. That was unmistakeably Edgar Bones and his wife over on the left, and it looked like Dorcas Meadowes in the distance.

Some of the people there were looking at him with surprise and revulsion, and it occurred to him that many of them may have died thinking he was the traitor, that he had been Voldemort's spy in the Order, even that he had betrayed James and Lily. Which reminded him, they must be here somewhere too, if this was really the Home of Lost Souls. He'd have to find them, he'd tell them how well Harry was doing, how much like them he was, how at fifteen he'd managed to get through more than any of them ever had. How proud of him they should be.

He wandered through the crowds for a long time before he saw the unmistakeable shoulder-length auburn hair that was Lily's. It was harder to reach them than it appeared; there were more people in between than he had anticipated and not all of them were happy to let him pass. But at last he caught up with them.

Lily saw him first. "Sirius!" she cried in surprise. "We didn't expect to see you for years yet." Hers was the first genuine smile he'd seen since he'd arrived.

James was equally pleased. "Sorry we had to meet again like this," he said, putting an awkward hand on Sirius' back. "How'd it happen?"

"Got an AK from cousin Bella," he said bitterly. "Nice of her to keep it in the family. There was a big fight at the Ministry: Voldemort's back."

Lily nodded. "We'd heard bits and pieces. It's so hard to get any reliable information here. James was almost hoping Dumbledore would cark it so we would actually know what's going on."

"What year is it out there?" asked James.

"1996," said Sirius.

"So Harry's sixteen now," James said.

"Almost. It's still June."

"So how is he? Have you seen him recently?" Lily asked eagerly.

"He's great. He's more than great," he said, and he started to tell them how Harry had been doing, what he'd been up to, how much he had achieved.

Once he'd finished, punctuated by what seemed like a hundred questions, James looked at him. "We heard you were in Azkaban."

"I was," he said grimly. "Twelve years, no less."

Lily looked horrified. "But why?"

"Peter," he spat, regretting but unable to change the bitterness in his voice. "Set me up. Framed me for what he did. And since no one knew about the switch, off I went." He went on to fill them in on an outline of everything else but he wasn't really concentrating on the task - something else had occurred to him and he was eager to get away. In the end he cut the narrative short and asked the question he really wanted the answer to. "Is Laura here?"

Lily nodded, an understanding smile on her face. "We haven't seen her for a while, but yes, she is around. It's so big here, though, and crowded, it can be hard to find people to catch up."

"And it's probably going to get even more crowded in the next couple of years if I'm not mistaken," he said ominously. "I'll see if I can find her." And, waving, he took off through the crowds.

He wandered around, searching for what must have been hours. Eventually he gave up just looking for her, and started calling her name out across the vast area that she could be in. Several other people, probably also called Laura, turned around and looked at him with confused expressions, and finally, after calling for her what felt like a million times, he sank defeated onto a nearby bench.

Then he heard it. The voice he'd been wanting to hear for so many years, for so long he'd almost forgotten how it sounded. "Sirius?" it said hesitantly. He loved the way she said his name, the Welsh lilt still evident even though she'd spent more than half her short life in England and Scotland. "Sirius? Is that you?"

He looked up and there she was, looking just like she had the last time he'd seen her, before she'd been cursed. He took her all in - the soft clear skin, the treacle-coloured eyes, the amazing figure, the hair that he knew she thought was mousy but that he could see a thousand golden lights in. He had forgotten just how beautiful she was in reality, something that photographs had never seemed to capture adequately, and it hit him like a ton of bricks. Gratified, overjoyed, elated, he rose from the bench and went to her, looking deeply into those eyes that he had lost himself in so many times. The thing he wanted most in the world at that moment was to be able to touch her again, to hold her, to feel her body pressed against his and to taste her once again, and as she looked up at him he realised that for once, at long last, something might actually go right.

A tear came to his eye as he felt her arms wrap around him, but for once it was from happiness rather than misery and despair. Fifteen years had passed since he'd had the experience of being held like this, the past three years providing only awkward hugs from Moony and Harry, and he had forgotten what it felt like and that it had once been normal. That was something else the Dementors had taken from him, and he struggled not to lose himself in the sensation. He held her tightly, not wanting to let go, to risk losing her again, trying to hold onto the moment forever. He caught the distinctive scent of her hair, something else he thought he'd forgotten, and found himself burying his face in it, breathing it in deeply. After a minute he leant in to kiss her, but she shook her head and began to pull away. He was hurt and bewildered, but he let her. She was looking up at him with a strange expression on her face: it seemed she was trying to take him in as deeply as he was her.

"You look amazing," he said, drinking her in with his eyes, not able to stop himself saying the words.

"You're older," said Laura, surveying him critically, and he was suddenly uncomfortably aware of his unshaven face, of the fact he probably still smelled a little of stale liquor and maybe even of Hippogriff. "You've been through a bit, haven't you?" she went on, looking concerned. He nodded mutely, smiling a little at her characteristic understatement. "You look so different. What year is it?"

"1996," he said for the second time that day. "June."

"It's been a long time," she said, watching him closely with a sad look on her face. "You can't have been here long," she added suddenly. "You're changing."

"What?" He had no idea what she meant.

"That's how it works here. Your soul puts you back in the body you choose, not the one you were in when you died. You're getting younger, more like the Sirius I knew." And she smiled, a small, sad smile, but a smile nonetheless.

"You haven't changed at all," he said quite honestly, not knowing what to think, wondering what was going through her mind. "You're just as lovely as I remember. If not more so."

"I couldn't change. The way the magic works is that you need to have had your wand with you when you died if you're to change. I didn't have mine - they took it off me in the hospital." She shook her head ruefully. "They took everything. I had a picture of us I carried around with me, they took that, and they took the jewellery you gave me and the letters you sent. So I had nothing to remember you by." She swallowed, then changed the subject abruptly. "What happened? Why are you here?"

"Had a duel with some Death Eaters at the Ministry. I came off second best to Bellatrix."

"I was thinking that," she said slowly. "You were fighting _against_ the Death Eaters. And you're here, so that means you _can't_ be a Death Eater. Oh, thank goodness!" She looked like she was about to collapse so he put an arm around her and sat down with her on the bench he had recently vacated.

"Not you," he said, crestfallen. "You didn't honestly think I could be a Death Eater?"

"I didn't know what to think," she said, her eyes wide. "It's really hard to work out what's true and what's gossip. And Dad came and he told me that ... that you'd been spying for V-V-Voldemort, and once he went down you ... you killed Peter and a stack of Muggles and got sent to Azkaban. But that wasn't possible, the Sirius I knew couldn't have done that." She paused, and he rubbed her shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting way. He was so long out of practice with this sort of thing. "But then, when you have too long to think about things, you start to second-guess everything. So I was thinking, you changed from fourteen to seventeen, and so maybe you changed from eighteen to twenty-one. I mean, I wouldn't know, would I? Maybe something awful happened to you and you swapped sides. Or maybe you'd been Imperiused or something. And then I thought that maybe if I'd still been around you wouldn't have changed, and then Peter and those Muggles would still be okay, and ..." Her voice trailed off, and he was troubled to notice tears in her eyes.

He shook his head in confusion. "But Peter isn't here. How could you think that?"

"He might have become a ghost," she said. "Just because someone isn't here doesn't mean they didn't die."

"Ah." He hadn't thought of that. "I can promise you," he said, "that I am not and have never been a Death Eater."

She swallowed again, looking like she was determined not to let those tears take over. "I probably sound so selfish. But it's been hard, knowing you were out there, for so long. Because who we are doesn't change once we get here, you know. And I love you so much, and I knew I could never have you again. Because, either you were a Death Eater, in which case I'd never see you again, and I wasn't sure I would want to because that could never have been the Sirius I knew, or - " She paused, taking another breath.

"Or what?" he asked.

"Or you were still the right Sirius, my Sirius, but you were out there making your own life, without me, and most probably with someone else. Maybe even a family of your own." She paused again, swallowing hard. "And I wasn't sure which would be worse. I mean, I loved you, and I wanted you to be happy, and if you were going to be happy with someone else then I would try to be happy for you. But then the selfish part of me, the petty part, kept pointing out that if that was the case, then when you eventually got here you'd want to be with her, whoever she was, and not with me. You'd have moved on. And that was tearing me apart."

He felt her shoulders shake slightly beneath his arms. "I didn't have a life, Laura. I had an existence. And I never got over you."

She looked up at him sadly. "Oh, Sirius," she said, shaking her head, "it's been eighteen years. You've had more than enough time."

He closed his eyes and held her tightly, feeling her warmth against him. She hadn't understood, he needed to explain. "Not really, I haven't." And he kissed her forehead lightly, the way he used to all those years ago, and tried not to notice that she tensed slightly and pulled away.

She shook her head again. "We were only nine months, and you've had eighteen years out there without me. If you weren't in Azkaban, you've had so much time. I can't believe you, I can't get my hopes up."

He started at her last sentence. Get her hopes up? She must really believe that she'd lost him. He would have to explain everything. How it had all gone wrong, how he had lost everyone he had cared about and it had all been his fault.

"Well," he said, opting to start at the beginning, "for the first three years after you died, I did try to get over you. I even had a few girlfriends and everything, but none of them lasted longer than a couple of weeks. They weren't you," he said simply, in response to her questioning look. He smiled slightly, remembering Rana Shafiq snapping, ‘How about you send me an owl once you finally get over Laura Cauldwell,' before storming out on him.

He went on. "And Prongs and Lily had everything I'd wanted for us, they got married, they had a nice house in a village with a decent wizarding community, they had a baby. And it was everything I'd wanted, but I'd wanted it with you and that wasn't going to happen, so I fought like hell to protect them, to make sure they didn't go through what I'd been through." He paused, shaking his head slightly. "I should have known I'd never have that, I was never going to have the happily ever after. That doesn't happen to people like me."

His arm was around her shoulder and she squeezed his free hand, and he noticed that the ugly scar that had trailed down her left arm had disappeared. At least she didn't have that reminder any more. "It could have happened," she said quietly. "You know that I wanted that too."

"You were a catalyst for them, actually," he said, side-tracked momentarily. "For James and Lily. They came with me when I went to St Mungo's to see you - well, at the time we didn't know why they'd summoned me, but that was what it was - and they left me alone with you for a while. Turned out they'd gone back to the waiting room and James proposed on the spot: he'd suddenly realised how fragile life is and how little time they might have. They got married within a year."

That sad smile crossed her face again. "At least I could be responsible for some good in the world."

"It was the beginning of the end for me though. That trip to St Mungo's. After you died, everything fell apart. I'd failed you, and then I failed James and Lily too. They died and it was my fault."

"You never failed me," Laura protested. "There was nothing you could have done for me."

"I wasn't there," he said. "I'd promised to protect you and I didn't do it. If I'd been looking after you properly I would have been there, and I could have saved you. I should never have stayed away as long as I did. So yes, I did fail you."

She sat up straight and looked at him fiercely, her eyes flashing. "That's ridiculous. Don't tell me you've been blaming yourself all these years. You were off doing your things for the Order, which was far more important than babysitting me, and what I was doing should have been safe enough. We weren't to know that the Death Eaters would try to recruit Bea."

"That was the whole point though. That is, obviously I would have joined up anyway, even if I'd never met you, but the whole reason for fighting was to make it a world where you'd be safe, where you'd never have to worry about whether the Death Eaters might have found something someone in your family did offensive. I didn't want to have to be worried about you."

"And you were working on the bigger picture stuff, which is what you should have been doing," she said sternly. "Making it a safer world for everyone, not just for me. I told you, you didn't need to fight my battles for me. And I did pretty well anyway, it was five against two and I took at least two of them out before they got me."

He shrugged. It would take a lot more than that to relieve him of the guilt he felt for her death. "James and Lily _were_ my fault," he said in a tone that he thought would book no opposition.

"No they weren't," she shot back. "They told me what happened, with the Fidelius Charm and everything. I saw them not long after they got here, they were standing near the entry point waiting for their little boy. Lily was crying so hard she could hardly speak, they thought they'd let him down by not protecting him. But he never came." Sirius smiled to himself, thinking of what Harry had achieved in the meantime. "James said they made Peter their Secret Keeper and he must have betrayed them. That had nothing to do with you."

"But I convinced them to use Peter," he said. "They were going to use me. And if they had, they might still be alive. I thought Peter would be the perfect foil, that no one would even think it might be him. But no, within a week of Lily casting the charm, Voldemort had got to them. He killed James and Lily, and he tried to kill Harry."

"That's what I don't understand," she said, shaking her head and relaxing into his arms again. "Why would he go after a baby in the first place?"

"Because he'd heard part of a prophecy that a boy born at the time Harry was would bring him down," Sirius said. "But he couldn't kill him. The curse rebounded, and Voldemort disappeared. Until last year, that is, but that's another story."

Laura was looking up at him solemnly and he noticed that tears had again formed in her eyes. He wanted nothing more than to kiss them away, to hold her and comfort her, to make sure she never cried again, but he could tell she wasn't ready yet.

"Anyway, I was probably taking on more for the Order than I should have, but when I was busy I felt less ... empty, I guess. It took my mind off things. I always took the most dangerous missions, the riskiest, and I think I was a bit disappointed when I came out of them okay. And then we found out James and Lily and Harry were being targeted, so I came back and we worked out the best strategy to protect them. Like I should have done with you: I wasn't going to make that mistake twice. And when the time came to cast the Charm I convinced them not to use me as Secret Keeper 'cause I'd be the first one Voldemort would go for, and if they killed me they'd be left with nothing. I was going to be the bait."

He felt her gasp, the sharp intake of breath. "They'd never agree to that. Risking your life like that."

"They didn't want to. But what was my life worth? I had no reason to live any more. They did - they had each other and they had Harry. Whereas me, I kept fighting all the time because that meant I didn't have to go home, because I had nothing to go home to." He took a breath and looked at her - she would have to understand what he meant by that. "Anyway, it didn't work out like it was supposed to, nothing ever did. The night they died, I went to check on Peter in his hiding place, and he wasn't there. And there was no sign of a struggle. It didn't feel right, so I went to James' place to make sure they were okay. And the top part of the house had blown up, just where Harry's room was," he said, his stomach in knots at the memory. "I could see James' body lying there in the hall. It was awful."

He swallowed hard, then continued, his own eyes now damp. "Hagrid was there, he had Harry, who had miraculously survived. And I asked him to give him to me, I was his godfather, but he said Dumbledore's orders were that he had to go to his aunt, to Lily's sister in Surrey. So that was wrong too - I'd promised Prongs and Lily that if anything happened to them I'd take care of Harry, and Dumbledore took him away from me. Anyway, I knew Hagrid had trouble travelling long distances, he's too heavy for a broom or a Thestral, so I offered him my motorbike."

"Really?" He could tell she was impressed, she understood that there wasn't much that would have made him part with that.

"Yes, really. I was determined to find Peter, and that would be easier by Apparition anyway. And I tracked him down, but he'd set it all up, he framed me for what he'd done. We were in the middle of a Muggle street and he yelled out, ‘James and Lily, how could you!' or something like that, and then with his wand behind his back he blew up the street, and transformed and ran off into the sewers where he belonged."

"Goodness," she said, engrossed by his narrative. "Then the story was partly true, but they had the details all wrong. A few people here were convinced that you had betrayed them, that you'd sold them to V-Voldemort. I knew it couldn't be right, though, the Sirius I knew would never do that to his friends."

"Well, Peter did a good job. The Hit Wizards caught up with me and dragged me off to Azkaban without a trial."

She caught her breath. "What!?!?"

"That's right," he said dryly. "Well, I'd lost everything. I'd lost you, I'd lost James and Lily, it was my fault you'd all died. And they'd taken Harry away from me, and Moony, who until a day or so before I'd thought was the spy, was off with the werewolves for the Order. I felt like I had nothing left to fight for." He took a breath. "I let them take me."

"Why would you think Moony was a spy?" she asked, clearly distracted by that little detail.

He shrugged. "We knew someone was. Process of elimination. They had to be close to Prongs and Lily, because their hiding places kept getting leaked to the Death Eaters. It wasn't me, I figured it wasn't Wormtail because honestly who would bother recruiting him, so that left Moony. I wasn't happy with that conclusion, but I couldn't see a way out of it."

"Fair enough," she said, moving a little closer to him. Hopefully that meant her hesitance was fading. "But you really went to Azkaban? I mean, I'd heard it, but I didn't really credit it because I knew you couldn't have betrayed them, you couldn't be a Death Eater, and if neither of those were true then you couldn't have gone there. And then I asked Lily and James and they agreed with me, so I thought it was just one of those weird rumours we get here."

"I was in there for twelve years," he said, his voice now bitter. He was remembering that dreadful time, when he had nothing but his memories to keep him company, and his guilt to keep him going. And the constant presence of the Dementors sucked any happy memories from him, so all he could think about were the dead bodies of those he loved, and how Peter had betrayed them.

"That must be what happened to you," said Laura, almost to herself.

"What do you mean?" he asked, looking down at his body - the transformation to his younger self seemed to be complete.

"Your eyes. They're different. Colder, maybe. It's like something's died inside of you, the sparkle's not there anymore. I wondered if the Death Eaters had got you and tortured you or something, because it would take something huge to do that, but it was the Dementors, wasn't it?"

"It would be. Twelve years they were outside my cell, day and night, until I got out. They drained all my happy memories away, and of course that meant they took you from me, because those were the happiest memories I had. I could remember so little about you - it was pretty much limited to you leaving me way back at the start, and then watching you die in that hospital bed, knowing that I loved you more than anything but not being able to remember why. It was torture. And because I'd been in there so long, by the time I got out it took at least a couple of weeks for the good memories to come back, because I'd forgotten how to be happy. And I don't think I ever really recovered that, because I was never really happy again afterwards. There were moments, of course, but nothing lasting, nothing like what I'd had before."

She gave him a squeeze. "But that was all I ever wanted for you, for you to be happy. You needed it. Goodness, you deserved it." She paused. "But how did you get out? Did they release you?"

He laughed, hearing the bark-like sound it made. This had become much more prominent since he'd spent the best part of two years as a dog, just after he had escaped. "Why would they do that?" he asked, still bitterly. "The Ministry thought I was Voldemort's right-hand man, they weren't letting me out if they could help it. No, I escaped, I slipped past them as Padfoot when they opened the cell door one day, and swam to the mainland as Padfoot."

"Why did it take twelve years?" Her confusion was clear.

"I'd found Peter," he said, and there was a hardness and malice in his voice that he was sure hadn't been there last time he'd seen her. Life had done that to him in the years since. "Cornelius Fudge - he became Minister for Magic - he was doing his annual inspection of the prison, and I asked him for the _Daily Prophet_ he was carrying. I thought I'd do the crossword," he added, smiling as he remembered those lazy nights in his London flat when he and Laura had done just that. She smiled too, through the tears that were silently rolling down her cheeks, and squeezed him again. "He was so surprised I even asked that he handed it over on the spot.

"Anyway, there he was, that rat, on the front page, on the shoulder of a boy who I thought would be about Harry's age. And the article said the boy would be going to Hogwarts that autumn. So I knew he'd be ideally placed to finish the Potters off once and for all, once he got a whiff of an idea Voldemort might come back. I had to do something, 'cause I was the only one who knew he was still alive, and only Moony and I knew he was an Animagus."

"Did you catch him?" asked Laura, lost in the story.

"Yes and no," he replied. "Turned out Remus was teaching at the school that very year, what were the chances? Anyway, between us we managed to convince Harry what had really happened, and we revealed Peter for what he was. Only trouble was it was the full moon that night, and before we could get him back to the castle Moony had transformed, so Peter made the most of his opportunity and turned into a rat and hightailed it out of there. I would have ended up getting the Kiss if Harry hadn't found a way for me to escape that, too."

"Harry? This is Lily and James' Harry? He saved you?"

"He's done a hell of a lot more than that, but yes, he saved me. Thirteen years old at the time, would you believe it? He and a friend showed up outside the room they were keeping me in, with a Hippogriff, no less, which they gave me to escape on. It's a bit of a long story." He smiled, and it was clear now that her reserve was fading, that she was warming to him.

"That was two years ago. I'd been out for a year, mostly as Padfoot, setting up camp in the forbidden forest so I could keep an eye on the castle. And then I was on the run for another year, partly abroad, partly around Hogwarts so I could keep an eye on Harry and fulfil my duty as a godfather. I was living mostly on rats, which I must say had a nice irony to it."

He felt her arms around him again, which gave him a bit more strength to go on. "And then, last year, about this time, Voldemort returned, he got his body back, thanks in part to Peter," he said viciously. "He's definitely showing his true colours now. So Dumbledore got the Order back together, and I offered them my parents' place as headquarters. They're all dead now, so it was mine - they didn't disinherit me as well as they'd thought. Only thing is, with Wormtail on the other side my big disguise is useless, and so I've been holed up in that horrible house for the past year, trying to make it liveable again, not able to go out. It's been driving me round the twist. And meanwhile the Ministry is refusing to believe Voldemort's back so they've been trying to discredit Dumbledore and interfering at Hogwarts, and Harry's had a pig of a year 'cause they're trying to discredit him as well, so it's been incredibly frustrating."

Laura was holding him tight now, and he could feel her breathing, if that's what it was. It's hard to know what to call things like that when you're dead, he reflected. "Sirius," she murmured, "I'm so sorry. If I'd known you'd have such a horrible life ..."

"And what could you have done?" he asked gently, pushing her away slightly so he could look at her. "You did nothing wrong. It was my fault. I was too busy running around for the Order when I should have also been protecting what was most important to me. I lost you, and I've never been the same since. Anyway, tell me," he went on, his eyes fixed on her face, "now you know the story, at what point in the past eighteen years do you think it would have been a good time for me to stop loving you?"

"You really never stopped?" She looked at him keenly, her eyes more alight than he had seen them since he arrived.

"Never. That time we were together was the best time of my life. Bar nothing."

She frowned slightly and raised her eyebrows, clearly still not convinced. "Weren't there any women in the Order once it re-formed? You'd still be on the wish list of anyone from school."

He laughed, hearing how sour it sounded. "Laura, there aren't many people in the Order this time around. Because the Ministry's in denial, it's a banned organisation. I can count on one hand the number of single women who don't think I'm a psychopathic mass murdering Death Eater, and one of those is Minerva McGonagall."

She smiled, not the small, sad smile she had given him before, but an actual happy smile that made her face light up. The smile he remembered. "Do you really mean that? I'm not just getting my hopes up?"

"Of course I mean that. You know me. I couldn't lie to you, especially not about something this important."

"I never really gave up," she said. "Not properly. I mean, I told myself I had, and the longer it went on without you here the less likely it was that I could get you back, but I always hoped. Even with what Dad said ..."

"I heard what happened to them," he said, squeezing her shoulders. "So they're here?"

"Just Dad," she replied. "Mum was a Muggle, remember, and they can't come here. And apparently there's somewhere else for the Death Eaters; none of them are here at all, something to do with their souls being too damaged, which is why when I saw you I knew you couldn't have been one of them. Which reminds me, didn't your brother join them?"

"Yes, he did. He even dropped out of school to do it, with our parents' blessing I believe, but I think he got cold feet in the end."

She nodded. "That would make sense, because he's here too. He can't have done too much terrible stuff while he was with them if his soul is still okay. He came to find me, not long after he'd arrived, to apologise. He'd realised you'd been right all along and he was sorry for the things he'd said about me. It was almost endearing." She smiled, apparently at the memory, and he felt a rush of satisfaction that Regulus had turned out okay after all.

"I can't believe I've finally got you back," he said. "After all this time. If I'd known this could happen, I think I'd have died years ago."

"Don't say that," she said, but she couldn't keep the smile from her face. She was almost radiating happiness. "You had things you needed to do out there. Harry needed you more than I did."

Sirius found himself reaching for her face, testing her, seeing whether she would accept or reject the implication of the action. The smile didn't leave her face, and she held his gaze without hesitation. He drank in her appearance, losing himself once again in those impossibly deep brown eyes, then leaned in and kissed her, tenderly, a little hesitantly, like it was the first time all over again, and trembled with relief that she didn't pull away. Memories came flooding back as he savoured her taste once more, and it was all he could do to stop the raw longing that he was feeling from overwhelming him. She reached up and pulled him closer to her, the way she used to do all those years ago, and he held her tightly, feeling her closeness, wanting never to let go. This was it. He'd been given a second chance. They could start again.

****

James found the hours unbearably long - he felt that he had to find Sirius again and learn more about Harry. The suspense was driving him mad. That glimpse they'd had a year ago, when their son was duelling Voldemort (of all people!! How had _that_ happened?), just wasn't enough. He had to know ...

He grabbed Lily's hand. "Come on," he said, "let's go find Padfoot. He and Laura have had long enough for a reunion, and I want to hear about Harry."

Lily frowned. "I'm not so sure," she said. "I think we should give them a bit longer. He'll have to convince her he was never a Death Eater and that he never replaced her."

James looked down at her, confused. "What do you mean?"

Lily sighed. "That's why she's been so sad. If you think we were confused by all those stories about Sirius being a Death Eater, imagine how she felt. And it's been such a long time, she was convinced that either way he'd have got over her and found someone else by now. Though I'm not so sure he has," she added, her brow furrowed. "Twelve years in Azkaban ..."

James could see her point but wasn't convinced. He recognised that his eagerness for information about his son might be clouding his judgement, but still he urged her. "Let's go find out, then."

Lily looked torn, and he could tell she was wrestling with wanting to give their friends some space, and her own desire to find out as much about Harry as she could. "Okay," she finally agreed, "but if they're still catching up, we won't interrupt them."

They searched for ages, not wanting to call out in case they did interrupt something. Finally, James felt his wife stop still next to him, and she drew his attention to a bench barely thirty yards away.

There sat Sirius and Laura, looking like they were half way between embracing and talking something through. They were completely engrossed in each other, oblivious to the rest of the world, much like they had been at school so many years ago. James guessed that Voldemort himself could dance by, wearing a pink tutu and a Gryffindor flag and throwing rose petals at them, and they wouldn't notice.

"Look at that," Lily said softly. "I haven't seen her so happy since we got here."

He looked at Laura again. As always Lily was right - she was glowing with happiness. He saw Sirius reach for her and gently trace her jawline with his finger, before leaning in to kiss her. James felt distinctly uncomfortable, knowing this was something they shouldn't be witnessing.

"You were right, Lils," he said. "I think they need more time." And, reaching for her hand again, he led her away.

 

 

 FIN


End file.
